


Pink, Purple & Royal Blue

by SuchASeeweedBrain



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex is the First Son, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake/ Pretend Friendship, Jesse Manes is a piece of shit, M/M, No Aliens, Red White & Royal Blue AU, Secret Relationship, The enemies part doesnt last very long, alternating pov, michael is a prince
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 86,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22071211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuchASeeweedBrain/pseuds/SuchASeeweedBrain
Summary: Alex is the son of the President of the United States of America, Michael is a Prince of England and they don't like each other. It's simple, but after causing a scene at the Royal Wedding, they are forced to fake being best friends. What could possibly go wrong?(They fall in love of course)Alternative title: How Not To Fall In Love With Your Sworn Enemy: a guide definitely not written by Alex Manes.The RWRB AU people actually asked for.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 722
Kudos: 539





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> First of all: Happy New Year! I hope 2020 turns out to be an amazing year for everyone!
> 
> Holy shit, I can't believe I'm actually doing this. I started this project about a month ago after reading the book Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston (if you haven't read it, what are you still doing here? GO). I loved it so, so much and the first thing I thought was: I must write Malex like this. So here we are, a month later, I have almost 40k written and I'm writing this on the train back from London where I spend New Year's Eve. 
> 
> I'd like to say a massive thank you to all of my wonderful Tumblr friends for your support on this (especially you, Lubs). Also, a special shout out to Emma for helping me come up with the title for this! So yes, here we are and here we go. 
> 
> I plan on posting three times a week (yeah look at me go), on Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. We'll see how long I last.

Michael was bored. It was his general state of mind, especially when he’d get trapped in the palace for longer than six hours. There was only so many times you could lap the library or walk the gardens or pet the corgi’s or hang around in the music room. It was torture, especially because Michael knew that there was a whole world of fun out there, just outside the gates in the bustling heart of London (he wasn’t supposed to go there anymore, but still).

But today he was fucking stuck here. Stuck in the palace because the giant fucking arsehole was coming here with a few of his perfectly boring brats. The President of the United States of America, Jesse Manes and two of his _four_ sons, Flint and Alex. The oldest and the youngest, Michael knew from the Mandatory briefing. Generally there were mandatory briefings and there were _Mandatory_ briefings, this had been a Mandatory briefing. That meant if he’d tried to skip out Yasir would have come to find him and dragged him there by his ear, he hated it when he did that. So he’d been good and he’d gone and he’d listened to the long and boring story of the two presidential kids.

The oldest, Flint, was serving in the Air Force, not the sharpest tool in the shed by any means, but (according to Shay who’d briefed them) the ultimate American Son. High school quarterback, boringly handsome, mediocre grades, enlisted at eighteen, had currently served for nine years. Could, apparently, shoot a gun with the best of them and was (according to Michael) a giant dick. He could just feel it.

The youngest, Alex, was the only one Michael could see himself _maybe_ liking. The smart one. Graduated high school at sixteen, MIT at nineteen. Computer sciences. Top of his class. Valedictorian. Certified genius. Worked on his father’s campaign before he could drive. Of course, there was also the picture he’d been shown. He’d been dressed like a college professor in his thirties, even though he was only twenty one, but he’d managed to make it look good. He’d be a good _friend_. One that might actually understand Michael’s science ramblings.

He'd never actually met the President or his kids before. Every time the man came here, or some from his family went there, Michael had either been pointedly not invited, or busy with other things. So he didn’t disappear out of the backdoor. He didn’t shake his detail and climb out of the window. He stayed put and moped a little, he had a reputation to uphold after all.

His mom actually checked up on him about an hour before the Americans were supposed to arrive. He’d have been insulted, but she had smiled at him all warm and happy and he’d lost the ability to be mad. She was one of the few people that could defuse Michael with one look. Isobel was the other. Max had the opposite talent. He could piss Michael off with a single look, equally impressive, less helpful.

When it was time, Michael found himself standing next to Isobel on his mother’s left. His suit jacket was a deep royal blue (Union Jack pinned to the lapel), his shirt crisp and white and fucking soft, his tie was the exact same shade of blue, just like his slacks. Michael hated wearing suits, but if he had to, the quality of the stuff he wore, made it a little more bearable.

Isobel looked regal and more like a princess than Michael could ever dream to look like a prince. Her blonde hair was braided artfully, making it look like she was wearing a crown. Her dress a paler blue than Michael’s suit, to bring out her eyes. She looked tall and imposing and like she’d wipe the floor with you with ease. The diamonds in her ears sparkled and with every shimmer they seemed to scream “I am better than you”, which she obviously was.

Max looked, well, like Max always did. Proper and princely. Hair neatly gelled back (Michael’s curls never seemed to cooperate quite like that), posture impeccable, tall and stately, cleanshaven. He looked like the heir to the throne. He looked like the kind of guy girls would dream of marrying one day, Michael looked like the guy girls wanted to have a hot one-night-stand with. Never introduce him to your mom. That was the general consensus. Max was the proper prince, Michael was the party prince.

‘Are they late?’ Michael broke the tense silence. Isobel let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, her shoulders dropping a little before being pushed back into her normal proper posture.

‘They’re Americans, of course they’re late.’ Isobel said under her breath. Their mom made a disapproving noise.

‘They are not late, we were early.’

‘A _Queen_ is never early or late.’ Michael said, catching Isobel’s grin easily. ‘I don’t think that goes for a President.’

‘Michael.’ Max said, disapproving. ‘Now is not the time to quote that wildly inaccurate movie.’ Michael rolled his eyes, because he knew it would piss Max off. It was probably his second favourite pastime.

Yasir, who was standing near the door, straightened up almost imperceptibly, but Michael had been around him long enough to recognize it. He cleared his throat.

‘Your Majesties, they have arrived.’ He said, as Michael had expected. Michael took a final deep breath, straightened his spine and plastered a fake, bland smile on his face.

The President stepped into the room first. He wasn’t as tall as Michael expected him to be, but he had an air of narcissism around him that Michael immediately disliked. His hair was pale blond, lighter than Isobel’s, combed back and greying slightly at the sides. His step was just on the wrong side of slow, like he wanted to make sure all eyes were on him as he entered.

Too bad he’d brought his best looking son.

From the second Alex Manes entered the room, Michael knew he wanted to get close to him. Be his friend, see that spark of intelligence up close. Even if it was just to see if he could make him blush, if he could crack that cool exterior, if he smiled as prettily as that mouth spelled he could. His image was so carefully crafted, Michael wanted to mess him up, wreck him. He wanted to mess up his hair, pull on his tie (red, who the fuck decided that was a good idea), crinkle his shirt. He _wanted_ to poke and prod and push to see how far he could go and that was bad. He’d always had poor self-control, not even growing up in a freaking palace had been able to squash that spark his father had given him.

Michael could barely make himself look at the other brother as they were introduced. His eyes drawn back to the youngest one, time and time again. He shook hands with the President, the older one (fuck what was his name?) and then it was Alex’s turn. He arrived at Michael last.

‘Nice to meet you.’ He said, all cool and collected and if Michael didn’t know any better, he’d say he looked bored.

‘Nice to meet you too.’ Michael said. Alex’s hands were soft and kind of cold. They were originally from New Mexico, his mind supplied, that’s in the desert (right?), he must find it cold here. ‘How was your flight?’ He asked and Alex smiled. Charming, but just a little tight at the edges. 

‘Long, but luckily Air Force One is very comfortable.’ Alex said as he released Michael’s hand.

‘The weather must be cold compared to what you are used to.’ Michael said, smiling a little more like he meant it. He could be charming too.

‘Yes, it is. Especially compared to where we grew up.’

The purpose of the whole meeting was a conversation about the upcoming wedding and who would be attending. It was the kind of thing Michael thought could be done over the phone, but there were apparently some sorts of old customs that had to be followed, or something, Michael admittedly dozed his way through that part of the lecture, uh, _briefing_. Also, he was pretty sure the President had to be in Europe for some other meeting with World Leaders.

‘Isobel, why don’t you show Alex and Flint the music room while the President and I have a chat.’ Their mom said. Isobel smiled, winning and wide and her pearly pink lipstick just made her look like she was radiating light, warmth.

‘Of course.’ Their mom nodded and lead the President from the room, no doubt to a smaller room where there’d be all kinds of their people to make sure everything went right. ‘Follow me.’ Isobel said and she started heading out of the hall. Michael stayed a step behind her, as Max walked next to her. Alex and the other brother were two steps behind Michael. He knew Yasir was there too, and he could see Paul and Ralph ahead of them.

The music room was one of Michael’s favourite rooms in the palace. It was the place where they could hang out and actually have a little fun. A room they’d been allowed to change instead of having to tiptoe around their own home like they lived in a museum (which they technically did). They called it the music room because of the grand piano in the corner, shining dark mahogany, the guitars and the several different music players, including a beautiful, old, record player.

‘This is the music room.’ Isobel made a wide, elegant motion with her hands to the room. Flint ( _that’s_ what his damn name was!) looked around like he’d seen better. Like the high, pale blue walls weren’t good enough for him, and Michael felt his hatred spike. He turned away, he remembered Shay’s words pretty clearly: Whatever you do, do not start an international incident. Her eyes had mostly been on him, which was probably fair. So instead of sneering something at the oldest son of the POTUS, he looked at Alex.

He still looked vaguely bored, but not like his brother did. More like he was willing himself not to show how he really felt, Michael felt that on a personal level. When Michael tried to distract people from his real emotions he went for bitchy and bored too.

‘Do you all play?’ Alex asked, motioning for the grand piano as he headed over to it.

‘I do, Isobel plays violin and Max isn’t musically gifted.’ Michael said with a smirk at his brother. Max narrowed his eyes at him.

‘No I am not.’ He admitted, like it pained him. Alex had reached the piano and he let his hand slide over the fall. He had really nice hands. Musician hands, slim with long, elegant fingers. He approached Alex.

‘Do you play?’ He asked, Alex looked at him over his shoulder. Michael locked his hands behind his back.

‘A little, I’m better at the guitar.’ Alex said, looking back at the piano.

‘Ah, so you can make your way through Wonderwall huh?’ Michael said before he could stop himself. Shit, if only he had more control over that stupid snarky tone. Not everyone saw the humour in that. Alex, however, laughed.

‘You can play Clair de Lune, right?’ He smirked, sitting down on the bench, his back to the piano. ‘Tell me I’m wrong.’ There was something sharp about him like this. Genius, it was the first time Michael could see it on his face. Yes, this is what he wanted, to crack that cool exterior.

‘You’re not wrong.’ Michael conceded. ‘But it is a beautiful piece.’

‘If you like the romantic stuff, sure.’ Alex said, shrugging. Like the piece wasn’t one of the most heartachingly beautiful out there. Like there wasn’t something about the soft, delicate melody, that cracked even the coldest of hearts.

‘Seriously? You’re not into romance?’ Alex’s face went back to bored, the easy teasing disappearing in a heartbeat.

‘Not particularly, no.’

‘Who doesn’t love romance?’ Isobel asked, almost insulted. ‘That is almost sad.’

‘Not as sad as the state of healthcare in the US.’ Michael said before he could stop himself. He could see Flint tense from the corner of his eye, but his attention stayed on Alex.

‘We’re not here to talk politics.’ Alex said with only a small hint of tension in his voice.

‘Alright, mister American Genius who hates Clair de Lune, tell me, what _is_ your favourite classical piece?’ Michael steered them back to safer topics. Alex clenched his jaw.

‘First of all: I do not _hate_ Clair de Lune.’ Alex said, another tick in his jaw. ‘And my favourite piece is Concerto No. 4 in F minor, also known as Four Seasons, Winter.’

‘Vivaldi, really?’

‘At least it’s not Spring.’ Isobel said, stepping up to stand next to Michael. ‘The harmonies in the second part of Winter are absolutely stunning.’

‘Exactly.’ Alex said, smiling at Isobel. ‘Congratulations on your engagement, I don’t think we’ve said that yet.’ Isobel smiled happily.

‘Thank you.’ She threw a sly smile at Michael. They’d made a bet on this, if any of the Americans would actually bring it up, and now he had, making Michael’s wallet officially ten pounds lighter. It also brought their tally to Isobel: 5 Michael: 7. ‘I hope you’ll come to the wedding.’ She said, very much _only_ to Alex. He’d been here for five minutes and Isobel liked him, oh no.

‘I’d be honoured.’ Alex said and _ugh_ , Michael hated him. He had officially decided, he hated Alex Manes. He hated his stupid pretty face, his stupidly nice hair, his ridiculously elegant hands. He hated that he knew his classics and that he was charming and clearly smart as a whip. He hated him because his father was an actual monster, and somehow he still seemed like a decent person.

‘Good.’ Isobel smiled, a little smug. Michael turned away so no one would see him roll his eyes.

Flint was standing near the bookcase, looking out of place and a little uncomfortable, much like Max who was sitting near the record player with a small frown on his face. He could see a flash of pale blue as Isobel made her way over to the bookcase. Michael looked over his shoulder to see Alex follow her.

‘So, Your Highness, what is your favourite book in this selection?’ Alex asked, folding his hands behind his back and stepping up next to Isobel. Michael already knew the answer, but he was curious if she’d give him the press answer, or the real answer.

‘Jane Eyre.’ Isobel said, raising a challenging eyebrow at Alex. He nodded slowly.

‘My personal favourite Brontë is The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.’ Isobel tilted her head.

‘ _Anne_ Brontë?’

‘Yes, exactly.’

‘Why that one?’

‘It shares all the virtues of Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights – powerful writing, gripping storyline, dramatic tension – while remaining firmly rooted in reality. Rochester doesn’t fool his guests by disguising himself as a gypsy-woman and Heathcliff doesn’t dig up his lover’s corpse. It’s the only Brontë novel not to feature orphans and/or dysfunctional families and it’s full of quiet humour. The heroine, Helen Huntingdon, is a woman who defies every convention by leaving her husband to save their child, which he is corrupting, earning her own independent living and eventually, _she_ proposes marriage to the man she loves. It really is Victorian feminism at its most radical.’

‘It is such a harsh book though.’ Isobel said. ‘But I suppose it fits considering you don’t enjoy romance.’

‘It is romantic, in its own way, but it’s also real. It is much more truthful than a lot of the other Brontë novels.’ Alex said, stepping closer to the bookcase, studying the spines. ‘It is incredibly intense and it is a warning as much as it is about forgiveness and redemption.’ Michael couldn’t look away, who the fuck was this guy?

The son of a Republican President. The man who didn’t seem to care whatsoever about his people, who didn’t want universal healthcare, who didn’t care about gun-laws, who didn’t give a damn about anything but himself and his rich white friends.

How did he have a son that just said the words “It really is Victorian feminism at its most radical”. How? How was Michael supposed to believe this was real, that this wasn’t some elaborate act to make friends with the notoriously progressive Royal Three? (mostly Royal Two, but Three sounded better). How was he supposed to believe him? He liked smart people, he didn’t like suck-ups.

He hadn’t even noticed Isobel and Alex were still talking.

‘Pretty progressive for a guy from a country so backwards it might as well be inside out.’ It came out sharp and hostile and Michael flinched at his own tone. Everyone in the room froze, including the security.

‘ _Michael_.’ Isobel looked horrified as she turned around to face him. Alex turned slowly and he was back to that carefully bored look, but his eyes were hard.

‘Your ancestors had an _empire_ , do you really want to come at the US?’ Alex asked, his accent made everything sound so much sharper, genuine anger bleeding through. ‘Every sane person that has seen Star Wars knows that an empire is not a good thing, also it’s pretty rich coming from you since your family lives of _blood_ _money_ -’ His voice just started to rise when his brother cut in.

‘ _Alex_.’ The brother said sharply and Alex snapped his mouth shut immediately. Alex looked like he forced himself to look away, dark eyes turning to the floor as he took a shallow breath.

‘I apologize, Your Highness.’ Michael decided immediately that he didn’t like it when Alex called him that. He would maybe have apologized as well, but one of the Secret Service people in the room cleared their throat.

‘Excuse me, but the Manes’ must leave now, they have another engagement to get to.’ He said and Alex’s shoulders dropped a little. He was relieved. God fucking dammit. He couldn’t wait to get out of here. Fine. Michael crossed his arms tightly over his chest. He wanted to leave so bad, he could.

‘I do hope you’ll still come to the wedding.’ Isobel said, instead of apologizing for Michael’s behaviour. Alex flashed her a tight smile. 

‘I will try.’

As the Americans left the room, Isobel whirled around. She waited until she couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore.

‘What the _hell_ is wrong with you?’ She snapped, throwing her hands out to the side. Suddenly full-on sister, not princess. ‘What part of “do not start an international incident” did you not understand?’ Michael clenched his jaw.

‘Oh come on Is, he was totally sucking up to us, with his whole “oh it’s Victorian feminism”’ Michael did an, admittedly, terrible impression of an American accent. ‘spiel. He’s the son of President Jesse “no I don’t think poor people deserve to live” Manes.’ Isobel made a truly un-royal, frustrated noise.

‘Everyone always sucks up to us, that’s the point! And just because his father is a wanker, doesn’t mean he is too.’

‘You know you’re engaged, right?’ Michael said (admittedly bitchy), and Isobel clenched her jaw in the way that meant she’d have slapped him if she could.

‘I don’t know who pissed in your tea this morning, but here’s all I’m saying to you for the rest of the day: Fuck you, Michael. Excuse me for wanting to make a friend that wasn’t one of my brothers and instead was a Brontë reading, MIT graduate.’ She turned in a flash of blonde and icy blue, she didn’t stomp out of the room, but it was close. Her PPO, Juliana, followed her.

‘Great job, Michael.’ Max sighed as he stood up. ‘I’m not saying I disagree with you, but you could have handled that a lot better.’ Max left him alone in the room with Yasir.

Michael ran a frustrated hand through his hair, messing it up and pulling on his tie, loosening it.

‘Was I really being that unreasonable?’ Michael asked. ‘He was being an arse right?’ Yasir studied him for a second.

‘I understand your thought process, but in my opinion he didn’t deserve that. No one gets to choose their family.’ Yasir said, in that plain and simple tone that made everything seem like fact. Sure, maybe he was right, but still, Alex had been pretty quick with his bitchy retort. Michael sighed.

‘Well, alright.’ He started heading for the door. ‘It’s not like I’m going to have to be best friends with him or anything.’

‘Well, I’m sure you won’t get invited to any White House parties any time soon. So if that’s what you were going for, you succeeded.’ Michael narrowed his eyes at Yasir over his shoulder, but he wasn’t looking at Michael. Instead he scanned the hallway as Michael headed back to his chambers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for Chapter Two! I should say: I'm not going to get into the politics too much, because politics (especially American) are weird and confusing. 
> 
> Thank you al so much for the amazing response on Chapter One, it makes me so happy to see that you're as excited for this as I am.

To say that Alex was surprised when the official invite to the Royal Wedding came in for him and his father specifically, was an understatement. Sure, princess Isobel had asked him, even after he’d snapped at her brother, but he thought that was just propriety. Clearly, he was wrong.

His father had looked at him with that calculating look on his face that Alex hated.

‘I don’t know what you did, but you did something right.’ He said to Alex, his tone said that he was surprised. Which was kind of ridiculous, Alex was incredibly well-behaved, more than Hunter or Flint, never took a step out of line (not that his father knew off anyways). Flint had, by some miracle, kept his mouth shut about the little incident with His Royal Asshole.

When he’d told Maria and Liz about it, they’d actually laughed, _loudly_. They apparently found it hilarious that Alex had pretty much yelled at a _prince_.

He called Maria the moment he was allowed to leave and entered his room (the East one) in the West wing.

‘Hey asshole.’ She answered cheerfully as she answered after two rings. 

‘Hey Maria.’ Alex flopped back onto his bed. ‘Guess who got an official invite to the Royal Wedding?’

‘No way!’

‘Yes way.’ Maria laughed, loud and bright. Shit, he missed her. ‘Why did you have to go to school in California again?’ Alex asked, unable to keep the whine from his voice.

‘Ah baby, you miss me.’ She said, softer and warmer, the fondness clear in her voice.

‘Yes, I do miss you. You and Liz.’

‘At least Kyle is there?’ Maria offered and Alex sighed.

‘Yeah, I guess, but he’s busy with school and shit.’

‘Hey, not all of us can be super-geniuses like you and Liz. Some of us have to work to get through college.’ Maria said, teasing lit to her voice.

‘Hey, I had to work to graduate MIT.’ Maria laughed again and Alex was just about to bring up the biggest issue: what the hell was he supposed to wear to a Royal Wedding? Instead, they were interrupted by a knock on the door. ‘Oh, someone’s here, give me a sec- yeah?’ Alex called out.

Speak of the devil.

‘Hey Alex.’ Kyle ducked into the room with a grin.

‘Oh, hey Kyle. I thought you had class till four?’

‘I did.’ Kyle said with an amused look on his face. ‘It’s five fifteen.’ Alex frowned and looked at the clock on the wall.

‘Oh.’ He could hear Maria laugh on the other end of the line. He pulled the phone from his ear and hit speaker. ‘You’re on speaker, Kyle’s here.’ The two greeted each other as Kyle flopped down on Alex’s bed.

‘So, I heard you got invited to the Royal Wedding.’

‘Jeez, news travels fast, doesn’t it?’ Alex asked as Kyle settled in, shoving one of Alex’s pillows behind his back.

‘Oh yeah, here.’ Kyle tossed his phone at Alex. Alex barely caught it before it bounced off the bed.

‘Yeah, apparently arguing with a prince doesn’t get you uninvited from a Royal Wedding.’ Maria said as Alex unlocked Kyle’s phone (his password had been the same for so long Alex wasn’t even sure why he still bothered).

FIRST SON ALEX MANES INVITED TO ROYAL WEDDING: WHAT WILL HE BE WEARING?

Alex rolled his eyes at the headline.

‘Really? What am I _wearing_? Why is that the thing they immediately focus on? The invite came in _today_ , _I_ don’t even know what I’ll be wearing.’ Alex sighed, flopping back into his mountain of pillows. ‘I don’t even really want to go.’

‘Uh, excuse me? Yes you do.’ Maria said, almost insulted. ‘It’s going to be the event of the year, you absolutely want to go.’

‘I’m going to have to go there, with only my father and I won’t know a single person there. It’s going to suck.’

‘You’ll know the Buckingham Three.’ Maria offered.

‘One of which is the one getting married, I assume she’ll be a little busy. The other didn’t seem like he could care less about me if he tried and the final one I argued with the last time I saw him, so yeah, I’m sure that’ll be great.’

‘You could always say no.’ Kyle tried and Alex threw him an unimpressed look.

‘You know just as well as I do that I cannot say no.’ Alex sighed at the ceiling. ‘It’s the Royal Wedding. I’m just going to go, suck it up, drink ridiculously expensive champagne and pretend to know what I’m doing.’

‘That’s the spirit.’ Maria said brightly. ‘Listen, I love you, but I’ve got to go. Text me when you know what you’re going to wear okay, babe?’

‘Yeah, alright.’ Alex agreed easily. Kyle and Alex said goodbye to Maria and when she hung up the room fell into silence.

‘So, how much are you actually freaking out?’ Kyle asked, letting his head fall to the side so he could look at Alex.

‘Eh, about six. I’m mostly worried I’ll arrive and they’ll just drag me to the dungeon for disrespecting their prince or something.’ Alex said, Kyle huffed out a laugh.

‘From what you told me, he started it.’

‘Yeah, I don’t think that actually matters though.’ Alex said.

Kyle was his best friend in the whole world. They’d known each other since they were kids and their dads ran in the same political spheres. Kyle had been there when Alex got his first bike, when Alex fell from the treehouse in their backyard and broke his arm, when Alex’s mom left. Alex had been there when Kyle’s mom was elected as sheriff, when Kyle crashed Alex’s new bike into a tree and split his head open, when Kyle made the football team. They’d been in the room together, pacing, nervous when the results of the election came in.

Kyle had been the only one to see the flash of devastation and panic on Alex’s face when it was announced his father had won the presidency.

‘You’ll be fine.’ Kyle’s voice broke the silence. He smiled over at Alex, warm and kind. It reminded Alex of the time where that look may have spurred him to do something stupid. ‘You’ve been to the RNC and survived, you can do this too.’

Alex nodded, but he still had that nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him feel like something was going to go horribly wrong.

Alex hated transatlantic flights. He wasn’t a good sleeper in general (probably something to do with his constantly racing mind), and jetlag made everything ten times worse. The nerves crawling around his stomach like a bunch of angry bugs weren’t helping either. Harvey, his father’s right hand man (besides Jim, of course) made Alex sit next to his father on Air Force One and smile for a picture. Because he was supposed to be happy, he was going to the Royal Wedding, plenty of people would kill for that opportunity.

He was more than happy when his father waved him back to his own seat after the picture was taken. Alex slipped back in his window seat, ignored Oliver’s _look_ and picked _The Prisoner of Azkaban_ back up. He’d chosen that one to bring along because he’d read that book so many times, he didn’t really need to pay attention to the story too much anymore, but if asked, he could tell exactly at what part he was. It allowed him to spend most of his time staring out of the window, overlooking the clouds and the endless ocean as they flew towards the UK.

The nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach hadn’t disappeared. Not when he’d chosen (with some strong suggestion here and there) what to wear, not when weeks went by without the whole arguing-with-a-prince mess coming out and not when he’d gotten on the plane to fly across the Atlantic.

In fact, it didn’t go away when they landed, when they arrived at the hotel, or when he got dressed. Several stylists bustled around him, messing around with his hair, dabbing concealer under his eyes (“when was the last time you _slept_?”), retying his tie. Alex felt like a puppet trapped in a giant play, a play for which he didn’t know his lines, or his cues.

They arrived at the first venue to rows upon rows of people, waving around little Union Jacks, wearing shirts with the princess and her fiancé on them, screaming, crying, cheering. Alex clenched his jaw and forced his face not to show how panicked he felt. This was all way too much, if he never went to a Royal Wedding again, it would still be too soon. He made sure to smile and wave at a few people as he followed his father inside.

The ceremony itself was long and kind of boring.

The princess looked beautiful, covered in white lace, wearing a diadem (The Vladimir Tiara, the one based off a lost Romanov kokoshnik) that was probably worth more than Alex could imagine and she seemed like she was made of pure elegance. Her fiancé/ husband, was a good-looking man with a warm smile, who had to wipe a few tears off his cheeks when he saw her for the first time. Alex pointedly didn’t look for prince whatshisface. He’d decided to do his best to avoid him at all costs. He was here so he could get a picture or two taken with some important people, drink expensive champagne (rumour had it, these cost over 10.000 pounds per bottle) and get his father off his back.

The reception was as outlandish as you’d expect from the reception of a Royal Wedding. Alex was almost disgusted. Not that he showed any of it on his face, of course, but there was so much wealth being flaunted it made him feel a little ill. He talked to a few other young people that were invited (teenage movie star, early twenties pop singer and the son of some kind of Duke), he didn’t hate it as much as he thought he would. He was pretty good at talking to people. Growing up around politics made him learn pretty quickly how to read people and what to say to get them to like you.

Superficial bonds were never the issue. It was the deeper connections that Alex struggled with. He’d grown up with Kyle and Maria, Liz had come barrelling into his life via Kyle, they were close to him before the whole presidency thing. They knew him before he was the FSOTUS. He trusted them with his life, but the people he met now? The ones that got that gleam in their eyes when they realized who he was, when they recognized his face? He didn’t trust them whatsoever.

Alex found himself some quiet near the table filled with a ridiculous amount of the rumoured champagne bottles and the massive four-tier wedding cake. He’d gotten himself a glass from a waiter, and he’d realized that just because it was expensive, it didn’t mean it was also good. Still, he was content to just stay there for a few minutes, give himself a breather before he went and tried to have a conversation with the current PM of the UK, or maybe one of the Spice Girls.

‘Well, would you look at that.’ Alex fought not to roll his eyes at the voice from his left.

The prince, His Royal Highness, Duke of something, blah blah, Michael Arthur Philip Evans-Windsor, or something, looked ridiculous. His suit jacket looked outrageously expensive and up close, Alex could tell the waistcoat underneath it had some sort of gold sheen to it and about a million different (equally golden) buttons. It reeked of Royalty and old money. It was awful.

‘When you have one of these, you should just have a champagne fountain.’ Alex said instead of a greeting. He was probably breaking some kind of protocol, but he didn’t really care. He’d had just enough liquor that it didn’t feel all that important anymore. Michael’s smile was bright and his teeth were perfectly white and immaculate and just straight up annoying.

‘Hm, not very classy. Is that an American thing?’ Michael said, his stupid posh accent curling around the words, with a smile that made Alex want to poke him in the cheek, see if it would fall off. He was too polished, too perfect, with his stupid golden curls and his jaw line and those warm whiskey coloured eyes.

‘Don’t you ever get tired of pretending you’re better than everyone else?’ Alex asked, tilting his head. The annoying, perfectly polite smile didn’t waver and it made Alex unreasonably angry.

‘What makes you think I’m pretending?’ Michael asked, his smile finally turning a little smug and…teasing? Was the fucker teasing him?

‘The fact that you don’t like Vivaldi, that clearly makes you inferior to people with actual taste.’ Alex said, it wasn’t what he actually thought, that was more along the lines of: You never seem to think you could possibly be wrong, even though your ancestors were actual tyrants and you don’t seem to care.

‘Says the guy who likes _Anne_ Brontë and hates Clair de Lune.’

‘For the last time, I _don’t_ hate Clair de Lune.’ Alex said as he could feel his fingers tighten on his glass. He forced himself to take a deep breath, these glasses were expensive, let’s not break one. ‘And for a guy who claims he doesn’t care for me or my country, you seem pretty obsessed with me.’

‘Excuse me?’ Michael asked in that haughty tone that only served to piss Alex off more.

‘I am not the one that sought you out today, in fact, I was going out of my way to avoid you, to avoid this,’ Alex motioned between them. ‘and yet here you are.’ Alex turned to him slightly, looking straight into those stupidly pretty eyes. ‘It’s just an observation.’

‘That is ridicu-‘ Alex downed the rest of his champagne (nope, still not good), and turned to walk away. He was probably breaking fifteen more protocols, but he’d actually been behaving tonight and now here this asshole was, picking a fight, at his sister’s wedding!

‘Enjoy the rest of your evening.’ Alex said over his shoulder. He was planning on walking away, finding someone to occupy his mind for a while, maybe go over to that pretty heiress who has been making eyes at him all night. That would make his father happy. He was pulled to a stop, when a hand closed around his sleeve, pulling him back. 

It was like everything moved in slow-motion. He stumbled backwards, in his effort to turn, he tripped over his own feet, falling into a broad chest. He could see the table approaching rapidly, but there was nothing he could do to stop their momentum as Michael tripped backwards. Michael hit the table first, Alex could feel his glass break in his hand and a sharp sting against his cheek as he smacked into Michael’s chest again. He managed to change his momentum to the side a little so he wouldn’t end up on the prince’s lap, but that meant he caught most of the icing as the big, big expensive wedding cake tipped and fell.

The room went dead silent. Alex knew his eyes were wide and he felt a small trickle of what he assumed was blood down his cheek. He thought things couldn’t get worse, but then the first bottle of champagne fell spraying everywhere and a flash went off.

FIRST SON CAUSES EXPLOSION OF CHAOS AT ROYAL WEDDING

Harvey slammed the paper down on the table in front of Alex, followed by another one

DRAMA AT BUCKINGHAM PALACE: WHO IS AT FAULT FOR THE DAMAGES?

‘It wasn’t me. He pulled me back, I tripped. He started it.’ Alex said, crossing his arms over his chest. Harvey raised an unimpressed dark eyebrow at him.

‘He started it? That’s what you’re going for?’ Harvey motioned at the now infamous picture on the cover of the paper. Alex and Michael, covered in icing and champagne on the floor with the small scratch on Alex’s cheek a stark red contrast. ‘You are twenty one years old, Alex. That shit won’t do. You- and I don’t care how much of this was your fault- caused an international incident.’ He jabbed a finger at the tagline of the article.

_Alexander Manes involved in altercation with HRH Prince Michael, what does this mean for international relations?_

Alex flinched a little and tapped his fingers on his thigh. Harvey added the final paper he was holding onto the pile, it was a copy of a British tabloid, the Daily Mail, Alex wasn’t even going to ask how he got his hands on that.

SON OF AMERICAN PRESIDENT IN VOILENT ALTERCATION WITH PRINCE MICHAEL, IS THIS THE START OF A SECOND BRITISH/AMERICAN WAR?

‘Well that’s a little overdramatic, not even the Brits would start a war over this, right?’ Alex asked, really, really hoping the answer was no.

‘Probably not, but you are going to have to do damage control.’ Harvey said, pushing forward the folder that had been on the table from the moment Alex arrived. ‘Your father is furious, he recommended having the CIA fake your death and riding the dead-kid sympathy to a second term. I convinced him to try a different plan.’ Harvey tapped his index finger on the file. Alex swallowed before opening it.

Harvey didn’t sound like he took his father’s threat seriously, but Alex knew better. If you weren’t an asset to his father, you were a hindrance which meant you could get out.

Alex was only a few lines into the document when he realized what it was.

‘Is this a contract?’

‘I have been on the phone with stuffy British handlers for the last twenty four hours.’ Harvey said, running a hand over his face. The frustration was clearly written all over him, tight shoulders, dark circles under his eyes, shirt slightly rumpled. Not the picture of competence and American charm Alex was used to him being. ‘This is what you’re going to do: You and prince Michael are going to convince the world that this was just a “bro-moment” that got out of hand, an accident-‘

‘It _was_ an accident-‘ Alex tried, but the look of pure shut-the-fuck-up Harvey threw him had him snap his mouth shut again.

‘As I was saying: an accident, nothing more, nothing less. You are both so very sorry. You have been friends ever since you first met and you truly regret what happened.’ It was pretty clear Harvey had spent too much time talking to Brits over the last day. ‘You leave for London early Saturday morning and you’ll fly back on Sunday night. You and Michael will spend the weekend convincing people that you’re best friends, you will do a TV appearance, followed by charity stuff.’ Harvey leaned forward suddenly, setting his hand on the table with a loud thud.

‘How am I supposed to pretend like he’s my friend? He hates me.’

‘You’ll have to go for an Oscar worthy performance. To be honest, I don’t give a fuck. You can hate him all you want, on your own time, but as soon as there’s a camera within three miles, you act like he’s the greatest guy you’ve ever met, treat him like your fucking prom date.’

‘I never went to prom.’ Alex said and Harvey gave him that look again, so Alex just pressed his lips together and stopped talking.

‘Treat him like the sun shines from his dick, I don’t care. Just make. It. Work.’ Harvey pulled one particular page from the folder and put it down in front of Alex. ‘This is the fact-sheet the Brits send over about His Royal Whatever, read it, learn it, I’m having Kyle quiz you on it before you leave. I expect an A+.’

‘When have I ever not gotten an A+?’ Alex asked, pulling the sheet towards him. ‘Wait,’ Alex said after a pause. ‘does he get one of these for me?’ Harvey let out a sigh.

‘Yes, making it was one of the saddest moments of my life.’ Alex decided against asking any more questions. ‘Now sign the damn contract.’ Alex did as he was told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Chapter Three will be up on Sunday. 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this marks the first week of PPRB (hm, not as catchy of an acronym as RWRB) done! I just finished Chapter Twelve after struggling with it for ages, I'm onto Chapter Thirteen. I have no idea how long this is going to get, right now I'm deviating from the book more and I don't know where it's going to take me, but I'm having fun!
> 
> Thank you all again for the wonderful response!

‘This is quite funny.’ Isobel grinned, waving the paper at him from her seat on the futon. She was wearing lilac today, a soft cashmere sweater that Michael had gotten for her last year.

‘It is _not_ funny, Isobel. This is a fucking tragedy.’ Michael complained. He was slouched on the couch, arms crossed over his chest. ‘This is going to be a certified disaster.’ She waved away his concerns.

‘No it won’t. You’ll just smile at him whenever there’s camera’s around and then you’ll be fine. Let me quiz you.’ She settled and looked at him expectantly. It wasn’t like he could say no to her, he’d made a scene at her wedding, she’d be holding this over his head for years to come. He sighed dramatically.

‘Fine.’

‘First, siblings: names, ages, etc.’

‘ _Ugh_ , okay.’ Michael rolled his head around. ‘Flint Manes, the oldest at twenty-seven, currently in his ninth year in the Air Force, not currently deployed. Robert, twenty-five, former Air Force. Hunter twenty-three, former- guess what- Air Force.’

‘So Alex is the outlier, huh?’

‘Yeah while his brothers were fighting in an unwinnable war, he was a little busy being a genius.’

‘You know what Michael, that almost sounded like a compliment.’ Isobel said with a smirk, but before he could protest she continued. ‘Very good. Next, best friends?’

‘Kyle Valenti, son of the VP. Twenty one, studying medicine at Georgetown. Elizabeth Ortecho, mostly known as Liz, twenty one, her birthday is just a few weeks after mine, certified genius, graduated from MIT the same year as Alex did. Maria DeLuca, twenty two, daughter of Democratic Senator Mimi DeLuca, currently studying political sciences at Stanford.’ Michael rattled off. He’d actually met Liz Ortecho once, he’d quite liked her. He didn’t understand how a spitfire like her could be friends with a boring goody-two-shoes like Alex Manes.

His hobbies were listed as reading and listening to music, for fucks sake.

‘Favourite book?’

‘I hate him, Is.’ Michael whined. ‘His favourite book is The Great Expectations, how am I supposed to pretend to like a guy who reads _Dickens_ for pleasure?’

‘Your favourite book is listed as Oliver Twist, Michael.’ Max commented from his chair near the record player. It was playing what sounded like Debussy. Michael flipped him off over his shoulder.

‘That’s just the press answer though.’

‘Did you consider that might be the same for him?’ Max offered.

‘I hate it when you’re so logical.’ Michael said after a beat. ‘Why can’t you just let me hate him in peace?’

‘Because you’re supposed to pretend like he’s your best friend, starting today.’ Isobel cut in. ‘Now, favourite movie?’ Michael never got the chance to answer, because Yasir came into the room.

‘Your Highness, it is time to go to the stables.’ Michael groaned, but got up anyways.

‘Let’s just get this over with.’ He said, pushing himself off the couch.

‘Good luck.’ Isobel said, giving him a thumbs up.

‘You can do this.’ Max said, without a thumbs up, but still, he must have realized that Michael wasn’t just being dramatic, but that he actually didn’t want to do this.

‘Thanks.’ Michael said miserably.

He was driven to the stables. The weather was surprisingly nice today, a few clouds against the blue sky, but the sun was out. Michael did actually do a little polo practice with his favourite horse, but he didn’t have time to really work up a sweat because after fifteen minutes of easy work, Yasir motioned at him from the fence. Michael could see a discreet, black car pull up.

Sure enough, there was the First Brat. He was just as annoyingly boring and polished as Michael remembered him. Michael could already see the palace photographer approach. Michael steered the horse towards the fence.

‘Hi there.’ He said. Alex squinted against the sun. Michael could feel the annoyance roll off him in waves, but on the outside he looked relaxed and almost friendly. Michael was _almost_ impressed. He hopped off the horse and handed the reigns to a stable hand.

‘Hi, nice day out.’ Alex said, holding out his hand as Michael rounded the fence. He pulled his right glove off and shook Alex’s hand. Smiling brightly. _Just pretend he’s Isobel_ , he told himself.

‘Yes it is.’ Michael agreed.

‘Let’s just get this over with, the faster we get this done, the faster we can leave.’ Alex said, his smile sharp, but weirdly charming.

‘Oh trust me, I’d rather be waterboarded, than be here, which I’m sure your country could arrange.’ Michael said with an extra squeeze to Alex’s hand.

‘Fuck you.’ Alex replied happily, smiling at the camera. Michael blinked, but kept his smile firmly on his face. He could not remember the last time anyone that wasn’t Isobel had said that to him. 

They parted the second the photographer lowered his camera and Yasir gave them a nod of approval. The guy standing next to Yasir was one Michael vaguely recognized. He was taller than Alex, strong looking, short cropped dark hair and a wide mouth. He looked amused, his dark brown eyes and the curve of his mouth spelled it out.

‘Is this the poor guy that has to spend all day with you?’ Michael asked, sauntering towards the guy. He could hear Alex mumble something that sounded a lot like “God give me strength”.

‘Yes, this is Oliver. Oliver, this is His Royal Highness Prince Michael of Wales.’ Alex sounded completely, utterly, unimpressed.

‘You got my title right.’ Michael grinned.

‘It was on your fact sheet.’ Alex said with rolling eyes. ‘Don’t flatter yourself.’

Michael would have brought up the book thing, but Yasir mentioned a phone call he had to make and before he knew it, him and Alex had been moved into separate cars to head over to Kensington palace, where Alex would be staying in their guest chambers. That alone was enough to make Michael feel supremely uncomfortable. The idea that Alex would be sleeping in what was essentially, Michael’s home, made something squeeze in his stomach. Something nervous and… well, it had to be discomfort, right?

Michael didn’t check on Alex, didn’t offer to show him to his rooms. He didn’t care, after all. He just asked what rooms Alex would be staying in, flopped onto his bed and pulled out his phone. The pictures of their little meet up were already online.

HRH PRINCE MICHAEL MEETS UP WITH FIRST SON ALEX MANES, PUBILICITY STUNT OR ACTUAL FRIENDSHIP? 

Michael didn’t bother to read the article, he just scrolled down to the picture. Just making sure he looked good. He had a reputation to uphold after all.

He did, look good. His riding pants always did good things for his legs and he hadn’t been riding long enough for his helmet to mess up his hair too much. His polo shirt was nice and snug and showed off his trim waist. Yeah, he looked good. Frustratingly though, Michael couldn’t help but study Alex too.

His tanned skin made Michael look especially pale. They were about the same height, but Alex’s shoulders looked wider. His chinos clung to his thighs and his hair looked just windswept enough to be casual, but not messy, and the sunshine did wonderful things for the colour. He was smiling, no, grinning at Michael and he looked _charming_ , Michael realized with a start.

Ugh.

Michael quickly locked his phone and tossed it to the side. Being charming was _his_ thing.

He pushed himself to his feet and went over to his desk. He would go through the stuff for tomorrow’s interview and charity event again.

Michael didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until he opened his eyes and immediately felt the uncomfortable twinge in his neck that meant he’d fallen asleep in an awkward position. He pushed himself upright and checked the clock on his desk. 2am. Well shit. Last time he’d checked the clock it had been 11pm. Three hours in a row, better than usual.

Michael pushed himself off his chair with a groan, his muscles protesting after having been in the same position for so long.

‘I know exactly what I need.’ Michael mumbled to himself. ‘A Cornetto.’

His insomnia usually showed up on days before big events or things he was uncertain about, but he wasn’t a very good sleeper in general. Never had been. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d slept through the night.

Insomnia was a bitch.

But he learned to live with it a while ago, mostly through naps in cars, planes, trains. He’d gotten very good at sleeping wherever, whenever, especially in moving vehicles. He’d also learned that the best thing to do at 2am, when everyone else was asleep, was eat ice cream.

He changed into sweatpants and his big Oxford sweater, running a hand through his hair. He put his headphones in and put on his “go the fuck to sleep Michael” playlist. He made his way out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. His socked feet let him move through the house almost completely silently. He pulled open the freezer and found-

Nothing.

It was empty. Where the fuck were his Cornettos? It took him a beat too long to realize that there was only one other person in Kensington who liked the Cornettos as much as Michael did.

‘Isobel.’ Michael hissed at the empty freezer. Shit.

Michael closed the freezer and set his hands on his hips, allowing himself an annoyed huff. What the hell was a man supposed to do without his favourite 2am snack? They always stocked the fridges with these. Oh. The idea sprung up suddenly. They’d stocked the fridge in the rooms Alex was staying in. It was 2am, there was no way he was awake right? He’d had a long flight, he was probably dead to the world. Michael could just… get a Cornetto and get out, right? That wasn’t that weird, right?

Michael made the decision quickly, he could just go in and out, no one would need to know. So he slipped from his room and down the hall to the other side of Kensington. He entered the chambers and headed straight for the kitchen, soft piano guiding him there.

He stepped into the kitchen rubbing at his tired eyes.

He froze when he saw movement from the corner of his eye.

Oh. 

Alex was sitting on the counter in sweatpants and nothing else. Glasses on his nose, phone in one hand pressed to his ear, Cornetto in the other. Michael yanked his headphones out as Alex seemed to hang up the phone.

‘Oh, um, hello.’ Michael stumbled over his words. Truly elegant. ‘Sorry, Cornettos.’ Alex made a confused face that Michael’s tired brain decided to label as cute.

‘What?’ Michael crossed the distance towards the fridge and pulled out the opened box of ice creams.

‘Cornettos.’ Michael pointed at the name on the box.

‘Oh.’ Alex tapped his fingers against his thigh in a nervous rhythm before hopping off the counter in a sudden move. Like he only just realized he was sitting on the counter in a palace. He straightened up and made a valiant effort to look casual. It only drew Michael’s eyes down Alex’s body.

He nearly slapped himself in the face with the box of Cornettos in his hurry to turn away and grab one from the box. He shoved the rest back in the freezer and turned back around, keeping his eyes firmly on Alex’s face. He wasn’t going to look down at that smooth, warm skin again, or those abs, or the V leading down to his-

Nope. He was clearly exhausted.

‘So, do you usually raid your guest’s kitchen?’ Alex asked, folding his arms over his chest. It was a good thing, because it distracted Michael from his abs, except now Michael’s tired brain kept wanting to look at his biceps.

‘No, but I ran out.’ Michael said, shifting his weight. ‘I figured you’d be asleep.’ Alex nodded slowly.

‘Well, I’m not.’

‘I can tell.’ Michael said and Alex rolled his eyes, but it didn’t seem as annoyed as it had earlier in the day. ‘Have you practiced what you’re going to say tomorrow?’

‘Of course I have.’ Alex snapped, immediately back on the defensive. ‘I’ve been doing this for a while too, you know.’ Michael sighed.

‘Look, I didn’t mean it like that. I just, should we rehearse?’ Michael asked, suddenly realizing what was bothering him so much about tomorrow. With Isobel and Max he knew what to expect, with Alex, he didn’t. He was a unfamiliar factor. An understudy of which Michael wasn’t sure he knew his lines.

‘Nah.’ Alex said. ‘It’s not Shakespeare. It’s easy.’ He grabbed for his phone and seemed to try and find the right angle for a picture. ‘Here.’ Alex said, showing him the screen.

The picture didn’t show much, just the empty packaging of Alex’s ice cream and Michael’s hand, his signet ring clearly on display around his pinkie.

‘And this will do what?’ Michael asked. Alex rolled his eyes.

‘This will show that we’re such great friends!’ Alex said, faux-cheerful. Alex started typing something on his phone as he continued. ‘Just give it a little caption: Nothing cures jetlag like 2am snacks with @PrinceMichael. Post. Bam, there you go. Easy.’

Michael would never admit it, not even under threat of torture, but there was something about the ease with which Alex did that that left him feeling impressed.

‘Right.’ Michael said, awkward even to his own ears. ‘I should go back to bed.’ Alex cleared his throat.

‘Yes, I was on a call.’

‘Right.’ Michael started backing out of the kitchen. ‘I didn’t know you wore glasses.’ He managed and then all but fled back to his own room. Shit. Shit fucking shit.

Michael ate his Cornetto, even though it didn’t taste as good as it normally did. He didn’t fall back asleep until his clock showed 4am. The image of Alex with those stupid glasses standing there in the kitchen, sweatpants low on his hips just wouldn’t get out of his head. Stupid American. 

His alarm went off at 5am. He knew there was no time to snooze, didn’t mean he didn’t want to.

‘Up and at ‘em, Your Highness.’ Yasir came marching into his room and Michael groaned.

‘Why?’ He complained.

‘You had to go and cause a scene at your sister’s wedding, now you have to do damage control. That means getting up at 5am to go on This Morning.’ Yasir looked impeccable, as always. Michael didn’t even want to know at what time he got up. ‘And considering you look like you’ve barely slept, again, and I _know_ you were up at 2am, we’ll need some time to get you looking presentable.’

Michael rolled his eyes, but got out of bed to take a quick, cold shower. He let the people buzz around him as they got him ready for going out in public. He didn’t see Alex until they were moved into the same car to head over to the studio. Alex looked great, but he was clearly tired. He let his head rest against the window and stared outside for most of the journey. The man he’d been introduced to yesterday, Oliver, was in the front of the car next to Yasir.

Nobody was talking, the radio playing softly to break the silence.

Michael ran his hands over his dark blue chinos. He was glad he’d been allowed to wear anything but a suit. The pale blue sweater he had on over a plain white button up, was expensive as hell and soft too. Alex’s sand coloured pants fit him, admittedly, pretty perfectly and the maroon of his sweater would translate really well on TV. He hated to say it, but despite his apparent jetlag, Alex did look good.

‘We’re here.’ Oliver announced and Alex seemed to startle out of wherever he’d spaced off to. He sighed tipped his head left and then right, seemingly trying to work something loose, rolled his shoulders and plastered a smile on his face.

‘Show time.’ He said as the car pulled to a stop. Oliver and Yasir got out first, scanning their surroundings. Michael could see the row of fans waiting outside in front of the studio. It was barely 6am, why weren’t these people in bed? Yasir opened Michael’s door and leaned in. He turned to Alex.

‘The prince goes first, you follow.’ He said and Alex just nodded. His smile turned into pure all-American charm.

‘Your subjects await, Your Highness.’ He said with just enough attitude that it made Michael grind his teeth together. He made himself take a final deep breath before slapping his polite smile on his face and exiting the car. The flashes of the cameras were blinding immediately, but he was used to it and he soldiered on. He stiffened momentarily when Alex slung an arm over his shoulder and practically talked into his ear. ‘Pretend you like me.’

‘You’re making that quite hard.’ Michael said in a low tone. Alex tipped his head back and laughed.

Ugh.

Luckily they were moved inside pretty quickly.

Alex moved away from him the second the door fell shut behind them. The smile dropped from his face and Michael could feel his own face do the same.

‘Part one, complete.’ Alex muttered to himself.

Michael was whisked away the moment they stepped inside the studio to have his final prep done. They poked at his hair, dabbed concealer under his eyes and straightened his collar (more than once). They were introduced to the hosts beforehand, Michael smiled politely and twisted his ring around his pinkie. Yasir came over with a cup of water and the pill he always took before TV appearances or anything else majorly public. It was some sort of natural calming thing, Michael didn’t really know or care, they knew these worked to centre him, so he took them.

He ignored Alex’s look.

When it was time to head out in front of the cameras, Michael steeled himself, pushed his shoulders back and made sure to put a smile on his face. He could do this. He fucked up, now he had to fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for this week. I'll be back on Wednesday! 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After struggling with ch12, I've rolled through ch13 and I'm now workin on ch14. My Word document is at 45k and I have no idea if I'm halfway or not. I've hit 90k before and it looks like I might hit it again. So buckle up my friends.   
> I actually really like this chapter, I hope you do too!

Alex smiled his all-American smile, pure charm, as he followed Michael onto the set and towards the hosts. It was all just a little too British for him. There was a damn teapot on the table for fucks sake. The lady-host was wearing a lilac dress, ending just below her knees and the male host was in a shirt/ suit jacket combo.

Alex shook hands with the man (George? Greg?), and kissed the lady (Mary? Madeline?) on both cheeks, making sure to sharpen his grin at her, just a little. His Politics Smile, the one that made people want to tell him things they shouldn’t. She made an almost giggling noise. As they all settled on the couch, Alex immediately felt a spark of annoyance at Michael’s perfect posture. The couch was fucking uncomfortable, not one to slouch on, but still.

He realized, in a piece of truly horrible timing, that Michael’s hair was especially golden under the studio lights.

He almost missed the question the lady (Maria? Mandy?) asked him.

‘So, Alex, how have you found jolly old England so far?’ Alex made himself smile, ignoring the teasing tones in her voice.

‘You know what, it’s beautiful. I’ve been here a few times since my father was elected and the more I see of it, the more I love it. Beautiful cities, wonderful nature and, well, always a good beer selection.’ Alex added with a sharp grin, the hosts both laughed (those ridiculous, posh ha-ha-ha, noises). ‘And it’s always great to see this guy, of course.’ He added, perfectly on cue, nudging Michael with his elbow. The prince gave him a smile that was just a little bit tight.

In a fit of pure insanity, Alex held out his fist for Michael, just to see what he would do. Michael looked at him like he was asking him to commit treason, but then, albeit a little stiffly, he bumped his fist against Alex’s. 

The questions mostly focussed on the charity stuff that Alex was supposedly here for. The hosts steered perfectly clear of the Wedding Incident, not even a hint in that direction. Must have been a British thing, Alex was pretty sure any American host would have at least tried to get them to mention it, for a nice headline.

They made it through without any incidents and it also seemed like the hosts genuinely believed that they were friends. _And the Oscar goes to, me_ Alex thought to himself as they were herded back into the nondescript black car they’d arrived in.

Alex certainly felt more awake now, the adrenaline of having to perform in front of cameras was still running through his system. Was this how actors felt after a successful show? It was kind of exhilarating.

Michael had been, surprisingly, not horrible. He was still kind of stiff and too formal and princely, but he wasn’t as dramatic as Alex had expected him to be. Seemed like the prince was good at pretending, much like Alex was. Maybe it was just in their blood. Politics blood. They went straight from the studio to the children’s hospital. They were visiting the cancer ward today and Alex felt more nervous about this than he had about the televised interview.

Alex loved kids, but kids were sensitive to deception and brutally honest.

Also, some of these kids might not survive to be Alex’s age and according to his father, Alex cared too much, got too personally involved. These were not his kids, he’d say, so it was not his responsibility to make them better. Alex never agreed with him on that though. He didn’t agree with his father on a lot of things, but he’d also learned that it was better to keep his mouth shut.

‘Alright, we’re here.’ The man that had introduced himself as Yasir said. He seemed to be PPO that was around Michael the most. Poor guy.

‘Ready, Alex?’ Oliver asked and Alex send a quick grin his way.

‘Of course.’ He could almost feel Michael roll his eyes.

They headed into the hospital. Him, Michael and both of their combined security took over the cancer ward. They met doctors and nurses and Alex helped carry a box full of new books into one of the rooms. Michael and his stupid, delicate, royal hands only took the books out of the boxes and handed them out.

Alex was glad he wasn’t forced to just follow wherever Michael went, because after seeing him smile like a damn robot for a picture with another kid, Alex felt like throwing him out of the window. Whatever his problem was, these kids were not at fault. So Alex doubled down on his happy, cheerful attitude. Most of the kids didn’t really know who he was, as expected (and he kind of liked it, because if they didn’t know him, they probably also didn’t know much about his dad, which was a-okay as far as Alex was concerned) but when he was introduced as the son of the president, they quickly started bombarding him with questions. Some about the White House, others about America itself. Alex tried to answer them all as he handed out books, climbed onto beds and read the kids some pages from Harry Potter.

It wasn’t easy, knowing how much these kids had been through, and would probably continue to go through, but there was a certain joy in making them smile, even if it was only for a little bit.

He realized he hadn’t seen Michael in a while when he headed out of one of the rooms, waving at the little girl over his shoulder. However, he did hear the what sounded like the soft baritone of Michael’s voice in the next room, so Alex slipped inside. He wasn’t sure why, but the tone of Michael’s voice was different now. Softer, more genuine, less robotic.

He was behind one of the curtains, not a camera in sight. Alex could just peek around the corner. Michael was sitting next to the bed, part one of the Harry Potter series in his hands. He was actually smiling, warm and genuine. His voice carrying the familiar words in that stupid posh accent, but like this, it was almost charming.

It wasn’t until the nurse came into the room that Alex realized he was _smiling_. 

‘Alright little lady, it’s time for your meds. That means the two gentlemen will have to leave.’ She said, setting her hands firmly on her hips. Michael seemed to startle out of whatever spell he’d been under. The girl made a disappointed noise, but smiled brightly at Michael as he handed her the book, careful to mark the page where he’d stopped. He turned away, only showing his surprise at seeing Alex there for a second before he got his face back under control.

Alex walked next to Michael as they headed out into the hall.

‘That was, surprisingly nice.’ Alex said before he could stop himself. Michael raised an eyebrow at him.

‘What do you mean?’

‘It is nice to see you have a personality outside of haughty, bitchy prince.’ Alex said and Michael actually huffed out something that sounded dangerously close to a laugh.

‘You were-‘

Alex registered a few things at once.

One: They were being almost friendly.

Two: There was a strange popping sound that sounded a scary amount like a gunshot.

Three: Oliver appeared out of nowhere and shoved both of them into a room, slamming the door shut after telling them to stay put.

‘Ah, fucking shit.’ Alex cursed as he slammed his shoulder into what appeared to be some sort of rack. They were in what was either a supply closet or some kind of janitors closet. Either way, Alex almost tripped over a mop and faceplanted into cleaning supplies. The only thing stopping him from bashing his own head open was Michael’s hand closing tightly around his arm.

‘Would you be _careful_.’ Michael snapped. Alex set a hand on one of the racks to steady himself and pulled his arm out of Michael’s grip. Not that there was much room to do so, but it was all about the idea.

‘There’s a fucking mop attacking me, thank you very much.’ Alex snapped back.

‘This is absolutely your fault.’

‘What?’ Alex squawked. ‘How is this _my_ fault?’

‘I’ve never been shot at, not once, and now I’m out with _you_ and someone tries to kill me. It’s your fault.’ Michael folded his arms over his chest in the limited space. That stupid signet ring on his pinkie caught the faint light from the hall. ‘It must be one of your insane countrymen that thinks guns solve everything.’

‘Okay, wow, that is a massive generalization of Americans.’ Alex huffed. ‘Our country is big, you know, much bigger than yours.’ He didn’t mean for that to come out so suggestive, but there it was.

‘Yes, more space to fuck up the environment and kill each other.’ Michael gave him a truly sarcastic thumbs up and Alex, totally accidentally (not), jabbed his elbow into Michael’s side. He made a surprised little noise, like that was the absolute last thing he expected Alex to do. Which, to be fair, elbowing a prince wasn’t the smartest thing Alex had ever done. ‘You tosser.’

‘Tosser? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ Alex asked. ‘And also, I’ve never been shot at either, so maybe _you’re_ just bad luck.’ Michael shifted and pressed them even closer together.

‘I’m not the one who nearly broke his neck by tripping over a mop.’ Alex rolled his eyes so hard it hurt a little. ‘You’re not supposed to roll your eyes at a prince, you do know that, right?’ Michael asked, condescendingly.

‘Yeah well, we weren’t really supposed to start our own nation, but we didn’t listen to that either.’ Alex snapped.

‘Could you _move_?’ Michael said, instead of sniping back. Alex rolled his eyes, again, because he wasn’t about to let His Royal Asshole-ness tell him what to do.

‘No, I obviously can’t. I’m not spending my time pressed up against you for fun here, bucko.’ Alex said earning an annoyed groan from Michael and another elbow in his side. ‘Would you watch your fucking knobbly elbows.’ Alex snapped and he gave Michael a little push with his shoulder.

‘Would you shut up and stop putting our lives at risk.’ Michael hissed as there were running footsteps outside.

‘ _Our_ lives? I knew you cared. Deep, _deep_ down inside that cold, black heart of yours.’ Alex said sweetly. ‘I’m learning all sorts of things about you today.’

And the weird thing was, it was actually kind of true. Alex _was_ learning all sorts of things about Michael today. He learned that if there were no cameras around Michael was actually capable of human emotions. He’d read Harry Potter to a little kid, and he’d done _voices_ for it. If Alex pushed the right buttons, he showed his actual opinions on things. It seemed like Michael and Alex agreed on gun-control for example. He had no idea Michael even had opinions before today. At least, not opinions about anything other than which caviar tasted the best or something equally ridiculous.

The room fell into silence for a few minutes. It gave Alex’s mind an annoying amount of time to overthink things. Like how _warm_ the prince seemed to be. How Alex would catch hints of his cologne. How Alex’s fingers brushed against the sleeve of Michael’s sweater and he realized it was absolutely as soft as it looked. How firm his biceps felt pressed against Alex’s.

‘So,’ he said. ‘Harry Potter?’ It came out about as awkward as it felt. Awesome.

‘Yes, unlike what you seem to think, we do actually know some of what goes on in the “real world”.’ Michael made actual air quotes with his fingers and Alex was horrified to find he found it _charming_.

‘So, who’s your favourite character?’ Alex let the snipe slide, just this once. ‘No, wait, let me guess… Hermione?’ Michael did that thing again where he huffed in that way that almost sounded like a laugh.

‘Yes. She’s obviously the best character.’

‘Of the main three maybe.’ Alex shrugged. He could feel Michael look at him.

‘Oh really. Do tell.’

‘Neville, duh.’

‘Did- did you just say “duh”.’ It really was funny, truly comedy. Michael with his posh accent saying “duh”. Alex covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle his laugh. Unlike what Michael seemed to believe he didn’t actually want to get shot today.

‘Yes I just said “duh”, because it should be obvious. Neville goes through an incredible amount of growth. He learns to be brave and stand up for himself, and in the end he destroys a horcrux! He could have been the Chosen One as well, did you know that?’ Alex could feel himself start to rattle, so he abruptly shut his mouth.

The silence stretched out again. Alex was usually pretty good at silence. He _liked_ silence, but somehow this silence felt different. Tense. Hot in a way that made him want to push up his sleeves and pull at the collar of his sweater. At least Michael seemed to feel the same way. He was playing with that stupid golden signet ring on his pinkie and he kept shifting around, pressing himself closer to Alex and then shifting away again.

Michael opened his mouth and closed it more than once before finally speaking.

‘It’s always a little weird coming back to a cancer ward after-‘ he offered hesitantly. ‘after my dad.’ Alex felt like cursing himself. _Shit_. How had he managed to forget? _Christopher Evans_ , father to the Buckingham Three, died of brain cancer about ten years ago. ‘You don’t have to apologize.’

‘What makes you think I was about to apologize?’ Alex asked. Michael grinned, but it wasn’t quite convincing.

‘There’s guilt written all over your face.’ Michael shrugged, jostling Alex around, earning a glare. ‘It’s been… surprisingly nice to have you here as an antagonistic little-

‘We’re the _same_ height.’

‘-distraction.’ Michael finished, undisturbed. Alex took a deep breath.

‘Well, I’m glad to be of service, Your Highness.’ Alex said with a mocking little bow. Michael laughed, it was a soft little noise, but honest this time.

‘Leave it to you to make fun of me after I’ve just reminded you of my dead father.’

‘Hey, you laughed, I count that as a win.’

‘Of course you would.’ Michael said it softly and Alex was, maybe, willing to let that one go.

‘I have to say, I don’t really get how you got the whole Party Prince name, you seem… just as uptight as the rest of them.’ Alex said because he couldn’t exactly say that Michael seemed surprisingly smart and well-spoken.

‘As it turns out, losing your father at a young age can kind of mess you up. Especially if you’re suddenly given more freedom because you go to University and don’t have to live in a palace where your every move is controlled.’ Michael said after a sigh. ‘I just needed a release.’

‘Yeah, I guess that makes sense.’

‘And once the press have given you have a name like that, they stick with it. It apparently doesn’t matter that I only went off the rails for about a year.’

The silence that followed luckily didn’t last long enough for it to get awkward again.

Oliver opened the door, Yasir standing behind him.

‘Well,’ he said with a slight smirk. ‘this looks cosy.’ Alex rolled his eyes.

‘I could have broken my neck over a mop, asshole.’ He said as Michael left the cramped little space first. ‘So?’

‘False alarm, someone brought fireworks for their kid, it’s all clear.’ Oliver said before straightening Alex’s sweater with a small frown.

‘Good.’

There were two separate cars waiting for them outside of the hospital, one to take Alex to the airport and another to take Michael back to his palace. Michael hesitated before getting in the car, he twirled his phone between his fingers.

‘We’re going to need to keep doing this.’ Michael said and Alex raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘This friends thing.’

‘Yeah, I guess we will.’ Alex said. They couldn’t just do this one weekend and then never speak to each other again. Alex sighed. He reached out and plucked Michael’s phone from his fingers. He was kind of surprised that no PPO tried to tackle him or something. ‘No password? Your Highness, that’s not very secure.’ Michael rolled his eyes.

‘What are you doing?’ Michael asked with a sigh.

‘I’m giving you my number.’ He entered his phone number with quick, practiced movements. ‘There.’ he pushed the phone back into Michael’s hands. Alex pretty much fled into the car before he could say something stupid.

Oliver gave him a look through the rear-view mirror.

‘So, phone number, huh?’

‘Don’t even start.’ Alex sighed, dropping his head against the window. He watched the clouds as they drove to the airport. He called Liz after they’d made their way through the, thankfully, light security.

‘So, the prince didn’t have you killed, huh?’ She said the second she answered.

‘Nope, still here.’ Alex replied happily.

‘So, how was it? Was everything all glitz and glamour? I saw your Instagram post, very subtle.’ Liz rambled. ‘I’m in DC by the way, so hit me up when you land and we can hang out.’

‘It was fine. It’s about as weird as living in the White House. Thank you, I thought it was pretty good and that’d be awesome, I want to talk to you about something anyways.’

There was something that had been nagging at him since their late night meeting in the kitchens.

‘Oooh, interesting. Give me a little hint?’ Liz asked enthusiastically.

‘Okay so, speaking of that picture, it was 2am and I’m honestly not sure if it was just my jetlag, but, uh-‘ Alex tried to come up with the right words. ‘I had been in bed before, so I was dressed for bed-‘

‘You were shirtless, you mean?’ The grin was clear in Liz’s voice. Alex rolled his eyes.

‘Yeah, that. Anyways, I’m just not sure if I was sleep deprived or if he was actually-‘ Alex checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was in earshot. ‘-checking me out.’

‘Oh my god.’ Liz said with a joyous laugh. ‘You know what this means, right?’

‘What?’ Alex asked, as Oliver motioned him towards the private jet waiting for him.

‘Legally Blonde: The Musical re-watch!’ Liz shouted. Alex tilted his head in confusion. ‘Oh come on, Alex.’ Liz continued in a sing-song voice. ‘ _Is he gay or European_?’ Alex snorted and he could see Oliver roll his eyes ahead of him.

‘You are a genius.’ Alex said as blankly as possible. ‘I’m sure that’s _really_ going to help me.’ Liz’s delighted laugh made Alex smile automatically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'll be back on Friday!  
> Also if you've never seen Legally Blonde: The Musical, I'm pretty sure the whole thing is on Youtube, it's delightful. 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad that we're getting into the parts where they actually start getting along a little more! This is where texting comes into play. Any texting (and eventually emails) will be Bold, any article headlines will be Underlined and capitalized. I was going to do a different font, but I realized that didn't translate onto AO3, so bold it is.

BROMANCE ALERT: PRINCE MICHAEL AND FSOTUS ALEX FLAUNT FRIENDSHIP

Michael rolled his eyes at the article Isobel send him. 

**I thought you were supposed to be on honeymoon?**

He replied, locking his phone and throwing it on the bed next to him. It wasn’t like he’d spend the day after Alex left looking at the pictures and the gifs of the two of them, except he totally had. Just to make sure it was believable. Just to make sure they hadn’t messed up at some point. Obviously.

It was almost a little concerning, how genuinely friendly they seemed. Sure, a little antagonistic, but nothing about them screamed “I secretly hate him”. Michael wasn’t sure if that was good acting, or that he maybe didn’t actually _hate_ Alex. He still thought he was annoying, a smartass first class and kind of a brat. His dad was still an absolute horror, but maybe, maybe Alex wasn’t as bad as he’d thought he was.

He send the first text, because he realized Alex didn’t actually have his number and he did say they should keep in touch, so he didn’t let himself overthink before sending a picture of his paused laptop screen showing a slightly weird looking Ravenclaw kid in the first Harry Potter movie.

**You never told me you were in the Harry Potter movies, nice acting**

He figured they could continue their bickering through text just as well as in person.

All he received back was the little emoji hand flipping him the bird and the words:

**I’m a Slytherin, bitch**

It, for some reason, made him smile.

They started texting a lot more after that first text.

Alex send him weird memes he only understood half of the time. He’d send Michael articles about himself with snarky commentary. Michael would respond by doing the same and making fun of Alex’s terrible sense of humour.

They figured out they both had pretty fucked up sleeping schedules. Michael could text him at all kinds of weird hours of the day, and he’d almost always get a reply within a few minutes. Even when, by his calculations, it would be in the middle of the night in Washington, DC.

Alex send him and article questioning if Michael was going to be a father with three baby emoji’s and the catchy line of:

**After all of the plastic surgery to make your face look like that, was there no more money left for sex-ed?**

It actually startled a laugh out of Michael. Isobel, who was in the room with him made a face at him, but he didn’t offer an explanation.

**Is that a compliment? I’m going to take that as a compliment.**

**Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night**

Michael texted Alex late one night about the horrid weather in London, Alex, the little shit, replied with a picture of the sunny front lawn of the White House. Without thinking about it, Michael send him back a selfie flipping him off.

Alex send a picture of a grumpy looking Beagle with a Slytherin scarf around her neck. Apparently the dog’s name was Buffy. Michael responded by taking a picture of what was technically Isobel’s cat, even though she mostly stuck with Michael nowadays. The cat was far too fat, but everyone liked spoiling her. Getting her to sit still with the Hufflepuff scarf around her neck was a true test of patience, but Alex’s reply made him grin enough that it was worth it.

**Don’t even pretend like you’re a Puff you Gryffindor bitch**

**The cat is a Puff, obviously. Wait is that why we hate each other so much? Is it just meant to be?**

**It’s dramatics like that that make you a Gryffindor. Showy bastards.**

Michael was kind of startled to figure out that he _liked_ being distracted by Alex. He liked having someone to text while he was in incredibly dull meetings with Max about expenses or other equally boring royal stuff.

Alex started sending him music recommendations at random, claiming that they needed to “update his music library by a few centuries”. Michael argued that he didn’t _just_ know Debussy and Vivaldi, but Alex didn’t seem convinced. His music taste appeared to be as varied and sometimes strange as Alex was. His interests jumped from political stuff (which was to be expected, given he’d grown up living and breathing politics), to ancient societies (Alex could tell you the most obscure facts about ancient Greece) and to weird random animal facts (did you know koalas fingerprints are almost indistinguishable from humans? He had texted at 4am one day).

They realized they both loved a good Queen song from time to time. They argued over the second best song (because everyone knew Bohemian Rhapsody was a masterpiece)

Alex send him a picture of himself with the actor who was currently playing Spiderman three days after Michael told him he was his favourite superhero.

Michael didn’t speak to him for almost twelve hours after that.

Michael found himself talking about his siblings, as Alex offered little titbits about his friends in return. It seemed to Michael that Alex regarded Liz, Maria and Kyle more as siblings than his actual blood relatives. He realized that Alex’s views were, most of the time, the polar opposite of his father. It made him wonder how Alex ended up as the poster child of his father’s administration.

**When I die of boredom, can you tell my sister I love her?**

When Michael was in a particularly long and excruciatingly boring meeting about finances with Max and a few of their financial advisors and he texted Alex, he figured he wouldn’t get a reply. By his calculations it was 4am in Washington and if there was ever a time that Alex was usually asleep it was between 3:30 and 5am. However, it only took a few seconds for Alex’s reply to come through.

**Is it a meeting about which of your cousins have to marry in order to take back the Iron Throne?**

**Nope. Royal finances actually.**

**I think Max is trying to bore me to death, secure his place on the throne.**

**Yeah, must be exhausting, managing your empire’s blood money**

**I’m trying to convince him I don’t need said blood money. Dad left us enough. I’m trying to explain why I don’t feel the need to use money earned on centuries of genocide, but sometimes it’s like I’m taking to a brick wall.**

‘Are we boring you?’ Max asked, snappy and annoyed. Michael put his phone down with a sigh, turning his attention back to the meeting.

‘Just working on international relations.’ At Max’s disbelieving look he added: ‘The son of the President of the United States of America.’ Max didn’t roll his eyes, but it was close.

Michael only allowed himself to check his phone once he was back in his room, ready to take a long, hot shower. His shoulders and back were stiff as all hell and he had polo practice tomorrow.

**I am low-key impressed.**

**What did you say again? Every sane person that has seen Star Wars knows that having an empire is not a good thing.**

Alex didn’t reply, which Michael had learned usually meant he’d managed to surprise Alex.

They were heading towards the end of November when he got a text from Alex.

**What are you doing on December 28th?**

Michael frowned at his phone, wrecking his brain to try and come up with something he was forgetting. He couldn’t come up with anything.

**Nothing?**

**The Manes brothers (but mostly me) organize an early New Year’s party every year. You should come.**

**To your party at the White House?**

**It’s not just stuffy Republicans, I promise. No one over thirty allowed.**

**You can bring a plus one (just not your brother)**

**The Spiderman actor will be there**

**I’ll check with Yasir.**

**Tell him I miss him!**

**I will do no such thing**

**Spoilsport**

Michael cancelled a stupid meeting he didn’t want to go to anyways and he told Alex he’d be there. He reasoned it was just because he didn’t want to go to the meeting and this was a good excuse. Of course, he’d actually need to show his face. If he needed proof he was actually predisposed and couldn’t be there, a party at the White House was a about as good as it got, there would totally be pictures, right?

Also, he’d maybe realized over the last few months, that he kind of missed Alex sometimes. He wouldn’t admit it, not even under threat of death, but it was there.

There was a strange sense of comradery between them. Michael hadn’t realized it at first, but they had a lot in common, more than he ever thought possible.

They both only had one parent in their lives (and they were both fairly absent). They’d grown up in the spotlight (Michael more than Alex, but still), they were both pretending to be things they were not, for their countries. They both had opinions they couldn’t share with the world. Alex because they didn’t match his father’s, Michael because the Crown wasn’t supposed to get involved with politics (it made Michael wonder what they _were_ supposed to do, but that was a whole other discussion).

They just sort of clicked.

Alex never talked to him like he was a prince. He would snipe, bitch and curse at Michael, like he was just some guy, a friend.

He’d learned Alex ended up in pretty strange situations sometimes, but the text he received at what was 3am for Michael, was a new high (or low, depending).

**I’m going to get murdered tonight.**

Michael blinked at the too bright screen of his phone, ignoring the swoop of dread in his stomach. He’d been _trying_ to go to sleep for hours, clearly a futile effort. His brain just wouldn’t stop racing. He’d tried to distract it by reading that new article about the first ever picture of a Black Hole, then he’d switched to trying to design a spaceship that could get him to Mars and he’d finally decided on staring at his ceiling until the room started to spin. That’s when he’d seen the blinking of his phone on the nightstand.

He pointedly ignored the feeling of relief when he saw Alex’s name on the screen.

**Murdered?**

**Yes! Murdered! Look at these things!**

It was followed by a picture of what looked like two turkeys in large cages, set in what Michael recognized as Alex’s bedroom. He’d seen enough pictures/ selfies of Alex in that room by now to recognize it. The one dark blue wall, the meticulous desk, the large globe in the corner.

**Why are there turkeys in your room?**

**Because I am a fool**

**Well, I thought that was obvious.**

**Fuck you**

**I’m about to die and you make fun of me**

**What kind of friend are you?**

Michael ignored the spark of warmth at Alex calling him his friend. He still wasn’t entirely sure what the hell was going on. He did know Alex was clearly exhausted. He only ever got like this when he hadn’t slept enough, when he was truly tired beyond belief. It was like the exhaustion took away all his inhibitions. It was kind of like he was drunk.

**Turkeys?**

Michael pressed.

**Yes. My dad is supposed to pardon them tomorrow, and usually they stay in a fucking suit in some expensive hotel, but there was an issue, so they couldn’t stay there.**

**And me being a fucking moron joked “well, you could always put them in my room” and now !!!**

**I’m gonna get Jurassic-Parked**

**That is not a word.**

**You are very dramatic, don’t you have a gun or something?**

Michael smirked at his own dig, expecting another profanity filled reply from Alex. Instead, his phone screen suddenly lit up with an incoming call. It froze Michael in place for a few heartbeats. They didn’t do this. They didn’t call each other.

‘- listen up you little shit. I’m here, letting you record the last words of a dying man and you make fun of me?’ Alex didn’t even say hello as he just picked up where their text conversation left off. ‘These birds are fucking huge okay? What if one breaks out? How am I supposed to _sleep_?

‘Alex, did you just call me at three in the morning because you think you’re going to get killed by _turkeys_?’ Michael leaned over to turn on his bedside lamp, screw sleep, it wouldn’t work anyways.

‘Hey, you answered.’ Alex said, immediately a little defensive. ‘And I may not have thought about the time difference.’

‘When was the last time you slept?’ Michael asked, earning him a sigh from Alex.

‘Who has time to sleep when there’s actual fucking dinosaurs in their room?’

‘ _Alex_.’ There was a short pause before Alex sighed.

‘Fine, I got about three hours last night, and about five the night before that and before that I don’t think I slept at all. So yeah.’ Something clenched in Michaels stomach. ‘But they keep making that _noise_.’

‘What noise?’ Michael asked, shifting up in his bed so he wouldn’t have a crick in his back tomorrow (or today, he supposed)

‘They _gobble_ , did you know turkeys gobble? I swear it’s the most horrific thing I’ve ever heard.’

‘Yes, Alex, I knew turkeys gobbled.’

‘Okay mister “I am a prince and therefor I know what sounds all animals make”, I bet you can’t tell me what sound a fox makes.’ Alex paused for a beat before continuing. ‘No wait, actually, don’t y’all hunt foxes or something? Isn’t that where you wear a lot of tweed and ride a horse with a silly hat on? You wear the silly hat, not the horse, although-’

‘You should really stop worrying about the birds killing you, because I am going to have you offed. Our assassins are incredibly capable, I’m sure they could get to you.’ Michael interrupted him, stopping Alex from rambling on.

‘Oh come on,’ Alex whined. ‘you’d get an _assassin_ to do it? Bummer, I was kind of hoping for something more personal.’ He could hear the easy grin on Alex’s face.

‘Like what?’ Michael asked against his better judgement.

‘I don’t know, slow and gentle suffocation, a silk pillow over my face. Personal. Sensual.’ Was it suddenly so hot in his room, or was it just him?

‘Uh, right.’ He managed. ‘Just go sleep in another room, you have plenty. Lock the door so they can’t escape.’ Michael ran a hand over his face.

‘Oh yeah, that might be a good idea.’ Alex seemed to deflate a little. ‘So, uh, what were you up to?’

‘I was trying to sleep.’

‘But it wasn’t working.’ Alex pointed out. ‘Just staring at the inside of your eyelids?’ Michael sighed.

‘Pretty much.’ He admitted. ‘Before that I was reading about the picture they took of a black hole.’

‘Oh, cool. Tell me, please?’ Alex asked, soft and genuinely curious. ‘I’m going to head to another room, but I’m listening, I promise.’ Michael sighed, more fond than the annoyed he was going for, but it was late.

‘Okay, so: A black hole isn’t really a hole. It’s an object in space with incredible mass packed into a very small area. All that mass creates such a huge gravitational tug that nothing can escape a black hole, including light. The picture was taken by the Event Horizon Telescope, which zoomed in on the galaxy M87, where this black hole is located.’ Michael took a deep breath, listening to the sounds of Alex shuffling around and humming at Michael’s explanation. ‘Now the reason it has been so difficult to take a picture of a black hole is because black holes are famously hard to see. Their gravity is so extreme that nothing, not even light, can escape across the boundary at a black hole’s edge. That edge is known as the event horizon. But some black holes, especially supermassive ones dwelling in galaxies’ centres, stand out. They gather bright disks of gas and other material that surrounds the black hole. Which is what you can see in the picture.’

‘Wow, cool.’ He could hear what sounded like Alex flopping down on a bed. ‘I love it when you talk science to me.’ The grin was audible in Alex’s voice and Michael couldn’t help but laugh.

‘I’m glad that does it for you. Now, do you mind if I go to sleep?’

‘Nope, not at all.’ Alex said.

‘Okay.’

‘Okay.’ Alex paused. ‘I’m just going to hang up now.’ He hesitated. ‘Good night, Michael.’

‘Good night.’ It was a pretty stark reminder that they didn’t _do_ this. They didn’t call, they texted. Texting was safe. Texting meant he didn’t have to reply immediately, he could think about what he wanted to say and how to word it, texting meant he didn’t get distracted by the curl of Alex’s voice around the words, the soft sounds that Alex would make as he listened to Michael ramble about science or the way he seemed to always have a reply ready. 

Michael hated to admit it, but he missed Alex whenever they were not texting. He missed his easy intelligence and his snaky replies, he missed his brusque digs at the British Empire and he missed how Alex never treated him like a prince.

Sometimes he’d be having a conversation with some sort of dignitary and he’d find himself coming up with bitchy replies he was certain Alex would appreciate. He’d be out in London with his sister and he’d see a sweater that he thought would look good on Alex, or he’d see a book that Alex had mentioned, or he’d come across the poster for a movie Alex had told him about.

Somehow the smartass American had wormed his way into Michael’s everyday life, and he wouldn’t even pretend that this was just for show. No one knew about their text conversations, no, they were just for them. Alex Manes was his friend and wasn’t that a strange thing to realize.

After he hung up the phone and buried himself under his blankets again, he actually fell asleep, and stayed asleep until his alarm went off. Huh, he must have been more tired than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'll be back on Sunday with ch6.
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there! It's time for Christmas at the White House. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your continued support, it makes me so happy to see that you're enjoying this!

Christmas was always a stifling affair around the Manes’, that hadn’t changed since they moved to the White House. Hell, Alex would argue it only got worse. Alex was pretty sure Christmas was supposed to be fun, quality time with family. It wasn’t supposed to make him feel ill. It was supposed to bring people together, not remind Alex that he hadn’t seen his mom in a decade. It was supposed to spark joy, sadly, he couldn’t listen to Marie Kondō, he had to be here and smile and pretend to have a good time. And Alex was nothing if not a good actor.

They were doing a Christmas lunch, because there was other shit to be done today, and lunch was the easiest option.

Flint was in town and so was Robert, Alex hadn’t seen that particular brother in a few months, hadn’t felt the need to talk to him either. Hunter was there, of course, he lived in Washington, didn’t mean they talked either. Their father actually managed to sit down with them for this lunch.

He was at the head of the table with two sons on each side. Alex was glad someone had turned on the old record player, which was softly playing old Christmas carols form the corner, breaking the loaded silence.

‘So, Robert, how is your wife?’ Hunter asked, just as Alex was about to throw himself out of the window. He forced himself to take another bite. He was sure the food was good, but it all tasted like ash to him. The nerves felt like ants crawling under his skin.

‘She is good, went to her parents in Florida, we’re meeting up there tomorrow.’ Robert said. Alex had met his wife, Sabrina, exactly once, at their wedding two years ago. She was pretty and blonde and everything his dad would want them to have in a wife. Not too bright, she’d just smile and shut up. Unlike their mom, she wasn’t a spitfire, she didn’t seem to have opinions on anything other than the colour of the curtains in their perfectly ordinary and suburban house. Alex was pretty sure they’d end up with 2.4 kids and a golden retriever.

‘Fleeing the cold, huh?’ His father’s comment was low and quiet, but they all heard him. When their father spoke you listened. They had all learned that a long time ago.

‘She wanted me to come see their new place. We’re not staying long.’ Like going somewhere warmer, even for a few days, was somehow a sign of weakness. Alex took another bite, just to make sure he didn’t blab out something he wasn’t supposed to. ‘What about you, Alex? Plans?’ If Alex could have reached him, he’d have kicked him under the table. Diverting the attention to him, dick.

He had a teeny tiny bit of hope his dad would bail him out, say he wanted to keep Alex around for the re-election, but he didn’t. So he swallowed his food and shrugged.

‘I’ve been thinking about law school.’ He looked his brother right in his stupid, smug face. ‘Figured it’d be fun.’ He knew it pissed Robert off that Alex outscored him on every single test they’d ever taken. He wanted to be the smart one, instead, he got to be the plain one.

Flint was the tough one, two tours overseas while in the Air Force. He was thinking about reenlisting again. Hunter was the politician, not the smartest, but the best at getting people to do what he wanted them to do. He was the best at twisting and turning unfavourable things in his favour. Alex was the smart one.

And Robert, poor Rob, he was the one with the wife and the house and the boring office job. An extremely well paying office job, but still, an office job.

‘Only you would classify law school as _fun_.’ Hunter said with a short laugh. ‘Law school is more something for me though, isn’t it?’

‘Is it?’ Alex asked. ‘I think I’d be good at it.’

‘You’d have to actually have an opinion.’ Flint said in that bitchy tone Alex hated.

‘When is the last time we talked, Flint?’ Alex asked, tilting his head in the way he’d learned from his dad, all condescension. ‘You’d actually have to talk to me to know if I have opinions. Just because I don’t broadcast them, doesn’t mean they aren’t there.’

‘Listen you little-‘ Flint’s temper had always sparked easily, this was no exception. Alex’s phone interrupted what would have surely been the start to a full blown argument. Flint was the brother he got along with the least.

But they were interrupted by the shrill ring of Alex’s phone. He flinched. Shit. He forgot to turn the sound off.

‘Alex.’ His father really needed only one word to make him shrink in on himself. He quickly pulled it from his pocket, intending on shutting it off, but the name on the screen made him freeze.

**HRH Prince Asshole**

‘It’s prince Michael, I should answer this.’ He said. ‘International relations, right?’ He asked, swiping to answer the call after his father made a face but didn’t tell him to turn it off. ‘Your Highness, give me one moment.’ Alex didn’t wait for Michael’s reply before holding the phone against his chest.

No big deal, relax, _act_.

‘Oh so a prince calls him and he gets to leave the table?’ Flint asked. Alex stomped down on the urge to flip him off.

‘He’s showing interest in international relations. I’ll allow it.’ His father said, but his expression showed nothing but cold calculation. Alex pushed his chair back and headed for the door.

‘Thank you, dad.’ He slipped from the room, and headed down the hall. ‘I’m here.’ He put the phone back to his ear as he slipped into the empty library.

‘Hey.’ It was a little concerning he could tell from that one word that Michael wasn’t okay. ‘Shit, I just realized what time it is for you, you were probably with your family. It’s fine I’ll just hang up-‘ Michael cursed, that meant Michael was not okay.

‘Woah, calm down Mikey. You know I don’t care much for my family. Hell you just interrupted what was about to be a full blown argument between me and Flint so, thanks. Now, what’s wrong?’ They still didn’t do this, even after Alex’s insomnia induced, insanity driven phone call the day before Thanksgiving. They’d gone right back to texting, but that was it. Texting was safe.

‘Mikey?’ Michael repeated in that stupid posh accent.

‘Yes, don’t try to avoid the question.’ Alex said, heading over to the soft couch in the corner that had been his favourite hiding spot the first year he lived here.

‘I- ugh. My aunt is here with her husband for Christmas and I’ve never really gotten along with her _or_ her husband, but I swear they get worse as I get older. For once, I’d just love to have a holiday with the people I actually care about, where I don’t have to pretend the whole time.’ Michael said, low and sad. ‘I snapped at her because she kept making these backhanded comments about how I haven’t achieved anything, when am I going to do something with my life, for the Crown, and then my mom got annoyed with _me_.’

‘That sucks.’ Alex offered. ‘I’m no stranger to shitty holidays and backhanded comments, in fact, my family are experts at that shit. I always tell myself to just make it through the dinner, lunch, whatever it is. I give myself a reward if I make it through a family event without getting into an argument.’

‘Really, like what?’ Michael asked, sounding a little calmer already. ‘Cookies?’

‘I should never have told you about my cookie weakness.’ Alex said with a put upon sigh. It had the desired effect though, Michael laughed. ‘I usually take something I really want, a new book, new CD, tickets to a show and I’ll use that as a bargaining chip with myself. So, what do you want?’

‘I just wish- I wish I’d sleep through the night.’ Michael said, followed by a quick: ‘Ugh sorry for being so miserable. It’s such a stupid thing to be so upset about. There’s families out there that can’t afford presents for their kids and here I am complaining about my snobby aunt during our lavish Christmas dinner.’

‘Look, just because your problems, in the big scheme of things, seem minor, doesn’t mean they can’t be big _for you_.’ Alex tried to explain. ‘And it’s not like you’re going around starting a charity to pay for a vacation to Bali to recover from the ordeal you’ve just been through.’

‘Yeah, that’s true, although, Bali does sound nice.’ Michael said, and Alex laughed.

‘Listen, just take a breath.’ Alex said. ‘It’s just one day a year, and you’ll be in Washington for the lead up to New Year’s Eve, so that should be fun. You are still coming to the Manes Men Massive Magnificent…. Masquerade, aren’t you?’ Sure, Alex maybe came up with that name on the spot.

‘Wait, is it actually a masquerade?’ Michael asked, sounding a little disturbed.

‘No, I was just looking for a word for party that started with the letter M.’ Alex admitted with a grin.

‘You are ridiculous.’

‘Alliterations, Michael.’ Alex said, with a little flair, trying to coax another laugh out of Michael, which he did. He found himself smiling and relaxing into the couch. Even if it was just for a little bit, he could ignore his family sitting in the other room. He could justify not being there for a bit.

‘Alright fine, and yes, I am coming to the party on the 28th.’

‘Good, we’ll show you how Americans party.’

‘Oh let me guess, loudly?’ Michael asked and yeah, he was feeling better.

‘Oh alright, so this is how it’s going to be huh? See if I answer the phone next time, asshole.’ Alex said, but he was having a hard time not laughing and he knew Michael could tell. They went silent for a few seconds.

‘Hey Alex?’ Michael said softly.

‘Yeah?’

‘Thank you.’ Something clenched in Alex’s stomach.

‘You listened to me freak the fuck out over a bunch of turkeys in my room, I can listen to your family problems.’ Alex said. ‘Just remember to breathe and smile while quietly plotting their demise like you’re Michael Scofield.’

‘Ha, okay. I will do that.’ Michael said and Alex already dreaded the end of this phone call.

‘I’ll see you on the 28th?’

‘Yeah, the 28th.’ Alex confirmed. ‘Good luck, Michael.’

‘Thank you.’

Alex made it through Christmas, somehow, without any major arguments. His father kept a close eye on him though, closer than normal.

On the 27th as Alex and Liz were going over the final preparations for the party, his father came walking into his room, without knocking. Liz startled and looked a little disturbed, but Alex was used to it. He figured his dad was hoping, praying, to one day catch him with a girl or something.

‘Alex, can I talk to you for a minute?’ His father said with his politics smile. The one that was supposed to look warm and inviting, but gave Alex the creeps instead. He asked it in the way that sounded like a question, but clearly wasn’t a question.

‘Uh, yeah sure.’ Alex said, getting up from his chair at his desk and following his father from the room. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, to hide how they were shaking. He was usually better at this stuff now. Being alone with his father still made him feel like he was about to break out in cold sweat, but he was better at hiding it now. However, recently, it had been getting worse again, that feeling like he had something to hide.

Which, maybe he did.

‘I wanted to know how serious you were about law school.’ His father asked, leading him down the hall. He didn’t seem to be going anywhere in specific. Alex could see Harvey hovering near a door a little ways down the hall and he knew there were two secret service agents behind them.

‘I have actually been thinking about it.’

‘Harvard?’ Like it was a choice.

‘Probably.’

‘Well, that would look good on your resume.’ What he meant by that was, it would look good on _my_ resume. ‘You already have the 180 on the LSAT. You have a degree, I’m sure you would get in easily. Otherwise we could pull some strings, obviously.’ Obviously. Alex could already feel the pressure rise. He wished he’d never mentioned this. ‘Law would be handy, you should look into what you need to do to get into Harvard.’ And just like that, his father moved into the room Harvey had been at, waving Alex away. ‘Make sure there’s no negative press from that party you’re hosting.’

‘Yes dad.’ Alex managed before Harvey closed the door in his face.

Alex ignored how fast his heart was beating as he walked back to his own room, to Liz. It was like his father could tell, like he knew, somehow. He entered his room quietly, Liz’s wide, dark eyes were on him immediately. He sat down without a word, still trying to get himself together. Shit, it had been a while since his dad had shaken him up like this, and he hadn’t even done much of anything.

‘Was that about the law school thing?’ Liz asked after she’d counted to ten, making sure his dad was gone. She still kept her voice down. Alex looked at her, she must have seen the panic on his face. ‘Let me guess, there’s pressure on it now?’ Alex swallowed and nodded. 

‘Yeah, he’s already telling me to go and see what I need to get into Harvard.’ Alex rubbed his hand over his face. ‘And I was thinking of Harvard, but now it’s like I don’t have a choice anymore. He thinks it’s a good idea, so now it’s happening and I’ve lost all control over my future, again.’ Liz, for all her genius, didn’t seem to know what to say, and Alex didn’t either.

It was cold on the night of the 28th, but still Alex felt warm. That may have been the shots Maria had handed to him though.

He wouldn’t say he was drunk, he’d never get drunk where his father was within a five mile radius, nor would he ever get drunk to the point where there would be embarrassing pictures online the next day, he did not have a death wish. Luckily, he didn’t have to worry about the picture part, there was an unspoken rule at these kinds of events, after the alcohol started flowing, the phones were put away. No scandals would come from the party at the White House tonight.

Which was partially why his father allowed it in the first place. Alex and Hunter had approached their dad with the idea, a New Year’s Eve party/ gala/ dinner thing where they could invite all sorts of young influential people, make connections and allies, all disguised as a fundraiser.

It was _actually_ a fund raiser, Alex had made sure of that, but (as far as his dad was concerned) that was just a front so that his kids could smooch up to young actors, singers, royals and other influential twenty-somethings. Any Senator, Governor or other political figure that had a kid between 18 and 28-ish, could expect their kid to be invited.

This year, there would even be a prince there.

Which was not at all why Alex had actually accepted and downed the shots Maria handed him. Not at all.

Kyle was already on the dancefloor, twirling Liz around as she laughed brightly. She was wearing a beautiful silvery white dress, one long sleeve and one bare shoulder. She looked like a dream and Alex hadn’t missed the look on Kyle’s face the second he saw her. It was pretty cute how he thought he was completely over her.

Maria was in a complicated looking dress with a black bodice and a wide, yellow skirt, looked like sunshine personified. Her short curls swept to one side, pinned with a silver contraption that appeared to be a bee.

Alex had managed to sneak a jacket past his father that he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have approved of. Dark blue, almost navy with silver thread woven through it, giving it a subtle shimmer every time he moved. He was pretty proud of himself for not backing out and wearing his plain black suit.

At this point in the night, the band was up on stage, playing a cover of a song from the early 2000’s that Alex swore he recognized, but couldn’t quite put his finger on. He could see Hunter to his right, dancing with the actress from the latest Netflix teen drama show.

When the band started the next song, instead of staying on the side-lines, he grinned at Maria, who grinned back at him. Kyle yelled at them from the dancefloor.

‘Get over here!’ He hollered with a huge grin on his face. Alex and Maria laughed and pushed off the bar to join him and Liz on the dancefloor.

Alex found himself laughing and singing along at the top of his lungs. Since You’ve Been Gone blasting through the speakers. They jumped along to the chorus, Alex threw his head back and his hands up in the air, and he suddenly remembered what it felt like to just let himself _be_.

‘Incoming.’ Maria nudged him after a few more songs had passed. Alex looked over his shoulder and saw Michael approaching, Isobel at his side. He felt himself grin. Something warm blooming behind his sternum.

‘Hey.’ Alex grinned, making his way off the dancefloor and towards Isobel and Michael.

‘Hello.’ Michael said, he looked a little tense and a lot out of his comfort zone, but good. Ah shit, he looked good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know okay! I'm sorry. This feels like a cliffhanger, I apologize for making you wait until Wednesday for Chapter Seven, but I will be strong and hold off (as much as I just want to post the next one early). 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! No more suspense. Here's part two of the New Year's party.

It was incredibly strange, seeing Alex in person again. The endless texts and their two phone calls made it feel like he was meeting Alex for the first time all over again. He knew things about him now, things that weren’t on his fact sheet, things he’d shared at 3am, and Alex knew things about him now. He was the closest thing he had to a friend. Wasn’t that a little sad?

That was probably why he felt so completely overwhelmed to see Alex head towards him. Isobel could feel his tension and casually wrapped her hand around the spot just above Michael’s elbow.

Alex looked like a dream. Michael wasn’t actually sure if he wasn’t still on the plane and dreaming. His jacket seemed simple at first, navy, fitting snugly over his shoulders and biceps, but when he moved, it was like the whole thing was covered in stars. It shimmered in a way that was just subtle enough it made you look twice.

When he approached, Michael realized that the camera of Alex’s phone didn’t do him justice, no camera did. They never managed to catch the sparkle in his eyes, his long lashes or the sharpness of his smile. They never caught his dimples right or the curve of his cheek, his cheekbones. The soft, warm colour of his skin. His mouth.

Oh shit. 

‘Hello.’ He replied, already cringing at his own awkward tone. Alex had stopped close enough to them that normally it would be a bit strange, but with the music blaring he had to lean in to properly hear him.

‘Hi Alex, good to see you again.’ Isobel said, smile perfectly brilliant as she released Michael’s arm and leaned in closer so that she didn’t have to yell. Alex’s smile was sharp and it made something squeeze in Michael’s stomach. Yeah okay.

‘Good to see you too, I’m so glad you could make it.’ Alex said, before motioning over his shoulder at the group he’d been dancing with. ‘Let me introduce you to my friends.’

Michael wasn’t going to lie, his eyes had been on Alex the moment he stepped into the room. Something about the way he moved had Michael’s eyes on him immediately. He had an ease and a grace that Michael… well he wouldn’t say he hadn’t expected it, but he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes before.

Michael recognized all the faces in the little group from the fact sheet he’d received about Alex. His best friends.

‘These are: Kyle Valenti, Liz Ortecho and Maria DeLuca.’ Alex introduced, pointing at each individual friend. ‘And for you guys, these are Her Royal-‘

‘Isobel.’ Izzy interrupted Alex (rather rudely) as she smiled brightly. ‘No need for titles around here.’

‘Alright,’ Alex adapted easily. ‘and this is Michael.’ He found himself waving awkwardly.

‘Awesome, now, I was promised a show of how Americans party so, show me.’ Isobel said, folding her hands together in front of her. Liz and Maria shared a look and grinned.

‘Alright, follow me.’ Liz motioned Isobel along, who went easily. That left Alex, Kyle and Michael himself. Kyle looked between the two of them and Alex did something complicated with his eyebrows.

‘I’m going to see if I can find, uh, someone.’ Kyle said before disappearing off to their right. Alex pressed his lips together as he watched his friend go.

‘Smooth.’ He said, before letting out a soft laugh. Michael didn’t stare at the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

‘So, this is the big White House youth party?’ Michael asked, they were still close together, the band had moved on to some more recent song now.

‘Yep, I’m a few shots in, so we should get you caught up. Do you drink tequila?’ Alex grinned, fingers closed around his wrist and he ignored the way his heart jumped. Alex started tugging him along towards the bar.

‘Uh, not really.’ Michael said as Alex found them a spot easily.

‘Whiskey?’ Alex asked, turning so he could face Michael. The light reflecting off the navy and gold decorations dancing over his face.

‘Yeah, that’s better.’ Michael usually went for the whiskey, when he wasn’t forced into wine or champagne. He’d drank tequila before, plenty of times actually, but tequila made him… handsy and it gave him killer hangovers, so nowadays he avoided it when he could. The bartender materialized in front of them, ignoring several other people vying for his attention.

‘Mister Manes, what can I get for you?’ Alex leaned forward a little to answer and Michael got distracted by the heavy feeling of eyes on him. He looked over his shoulder to find several groups of people looking away like they’d been caught.

Oh.

Right, the president’s son and a prince, that was apparently a sight worth seeing, even at a party like this.

‘People are staring.’ Michael said in a low tone as the bartender moved away. Alex seemed to shiver for a second. Maybe he was cold, Michael thought it was a nice temperature, but he was used to London weather.

‘Well yeah, we don’t have royalty in the US, so you’re a novelty.’ Alex said, his voice sounded a little scratchy.

‘I don’t think they were just staring at me though.’ Michael said. ‘More like us.’

The bartender arrived back with their drinks. Whiskey for both of them, but Michael’s seemed to be a double.

‘I’m not technically allowed to drink in the US, yet.’ Michael said as he held his glass out to Alex who clinked them together.

‘Cheers.’ Alex said with an easy grin. Apparently they were ignoring that tonight.

‘Cheers.’ Michael repeated.

‘Now down it.’ Michael rolled his eyes, but he heard the challenge in there, and he wasn’t about to lose on the first drink. So he did what he hadn’t really done since he started “behaving” and he tipped the glass back. He enjoyed the burn of the liquor down his throat, the slightly funky aftertaste that whiskey always left him with was like the greeting of an old friend (not that it had been _that_ long since he’d had whiskey, he was just being dramatic).

Alex, the cheater, sipped his drink much more slowly. The band took their final bow and Alex clapped somewhat distractedly. The music duties were taken over by a DJ. Michael raised his eyebrow at the second glass that magically appeared at his elbow. Alex shrugged, smirk firmly on his face.

‘You’re catching up.’ He motioned with the hand holding his glass, one slim finger pointing in Michael’s direction. ‘Get on that, Your Highness.’ Michael wanted to roll his eyes, so he did.

‘Unbelievable.’ He muttered.

‘You know, that’s the exact expression I pictured on your face during most of our text conversations.’ Alex said happily.

‘Well, you’d be right about that.’ Michael said and Alex laughed, downing the rest of his drink. He motioned for Michael’s second one.

‘C’mon, I wanna see if your royal dancing lessons translate to dancing in this century.’ Michael huffed out another laugh.

‘You go ahead, if I don’t take my time with this one I’m going to fall over instead of attempt to dance.’ Alex rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, but he left his empty glass on the bar and bopped his head in time with the beat as he moved towards the dancefloor again.

Michael realized his mistake pretty soon.

See, it was one thing to see Alex dance with his friends, jumping along and giggling, but this was something else entirely. Maria seemed to have left Liz with his sister and joined Alex on the floor. He twirled her around and then pulled her close, she was laughing all the way, Alex grinning. The song was something he thought sounded like Bruno Mars.

‘ _We out here drippin' in finesse, it don't make no sense.’_ The singer sang as Alex pulled Maria close. They were swaying together, moving perfectly to the beat, hips moving together. Michael wished he hadn’t worn a tie. He wished he didn’t feel something nauseating in the pit of his stomach at the easy way Alex moved with Maria. The way she teasingly ran her hand through his hair, messing it up a little. Her hands on his shoulders.

He downed the rest of his drink. Liquid courage. He approached the two of them, Alex’s eyes were immediately on him and he put some distance between himself and Maria. Okay, he could do this.

‘Alright, show me what you’ve got.’ Alex laughed, moving them further into the crowd. It helped a little, making Michael feel less exposed. He still felt stilted and awkward. Maria giggled as she stood on her tip toes to whisper something in Alex’s ear. There was that tightness in his stomach again, what the hell was wrong with him, was it the liquor? Alex rolled his eyes fondly and Maria disappeared into the crowd with a final smirk thrown in Michael’s direction.

While he was distracted, Alex had moved closer.

‘Alright, you look like I’m torturing you.’ Alex said, sighing as he trailed his eyes up and down Michael’s stiffly moving body. Michael rolled his eyes.

‘I don’t know what to do with myself. I was usually a lot more drunk before I ventured onto the dancefloor.’ Michael said unhappily. The flash he caught of Alex’s smile was… fond?

‘Just, watch me.’ Alex gestured at himself, he was swaying his hips to the beat easily. Michael made himself look at Alex’s face again.

‘I _am_.’ He complained. Shit when did it get so hot in here? Was he blushing?

The song had moved into something else that Michael didn’t recognize, but Alex seemed to. He sang along to the chorus as he put his hands on Michael’s hips, which did _nothing_ to make him loosen up.

‘ _Had to have high, high hopes for a living, shooting for the stars when I couldn’t make a killing._ ’ Alex sang, studiously ignoring how tense Michael was. The pressure of his hands on Michael’s hips did help him find the rhythm and stick with it a little more, and Alex actually had a really nice voice.

Slowly, Michael found himself relaxing into it a little more as the whiskey started to kick in a little and everything felt a little easier. He’d held himself together so tightly over the last year since he stopped “acting out”, he’d forgotten what it was like to let loose, have fun.

How funny that the guy who lived in constant fear of disappointing his father was the one to coax him back into that mindset.

‘Alex, what are you doing?’ A sharp voice to Michael’s left made him freeze momentarily. Alex’s hands clenched on his hips before he removed them altogether.

‘Hunter, I’m just teaching the prince how we dance here in the US.’ Alex said coolly. Ah, right, Hunter Manes, brother.

‘I appreciate the help.’ Michael said, with hopefully a disarming smile on his face. ‘I am afraid I have forgotten how to have fun.’ Hunter looked a little surprised, but then narrowed his eyes at his brother and leaned in to say something directly to Alex.

Michael couldn’t hear, but he could see Alex’s reaction. He rolled his eyes, then narrowed them and tilted his head at his brother like he was saying “really?”.

‘Just go away, Hunter. Aren’t you supposed to be flirting with the daughter of senator Corbin?’ Alex’s brother clenched his jaw and his left hand twitched like he wanted to flip Alex the bird, but he didn’t. instead he threw Alex a scathing look and turned on his heel, disappearing into the crowd. ‘Well, that was brother number 2.’

‘Yeah, so far, you’re definitely my favourite.’ Alex snapped his head towards Michael.

‘Wait really?’

‘Uh yes, easily.’ Alex tilted his head and smiled.

‘Good.’

Maria came twirling back to them a few minutes later, Kyle and Liz and Isobel in tow. Kyle shifted until he was next to Alex, setting a hand on his shoulder to get Alex to lean down so he could say something. Why did none of Alex’s friends have any sense of personal space? Michael didn’t like it. Especially not when Alex picked Liz up and swung her around, causing her to laugh and kiss his cheek before Kyle took her hand and stole her away.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

He was _jealous_.

The thought surprised him, which was a little silly, in hindsight.

He needed some air and some quiet. He thought about saying something, but Alex was yelling the lyrics to the current song along with Maria, his hands in the air as he moved to the beat easily. Michael just backed up until he managed to make his way out of the crowd, off the dancefloor and to the side of the room where he was pretty sure the gardens were.

One of the secret service guys at the doors to the gardens was familiar.

‘Oh, Oliver, right?’ Alex had mentioned him several times during their text conversations and they’d been introduced a while ago.

‘Yes, Your Highness.’ The man confirmed.

‘I’d like to get some fresh air.’ Oliver seemed to hesitate, but then allowed Michael outside. He could feel that Oliver followed him out the doors, but he kept his distance, allowing Michael the peace and quiet he wanted.

He made his way over to a large tree that was still near enough to the building that he could hear the music, but he couldn’t be seen.

So, a few things.

One. He was jealous of Maria and Alex’s other friends because they got to be close to him. He was pretty sure there was nothing romantic between Alex and Maria, he felt like that was something Alex would have mentioned at this point.

Two. He seemed to have some sort of feelings for Alex. He now recognized that the shit he’d been feeling wasn’t just because of their friendship, it was more than that. He hadn’t really had feelings like these for a guy before, so that was new. Sure, he’d found guys attractive, but he’d never missed them like he missed Alex. He’d never felt his heart pound like this when a guy touched him. He’d never been jealous like this.

Three. Well, three was more of a question. Did Alex feel something for him in return? There had been moments, looking back which could have been seen as flirting, but it could also just be Alex being Alex. Snarky, always ready with a comeback. In hindsight he should have known, smart and beautiful had always been his weakness.

Four. Should he do something about it? It was an absolutely terrible idea. Awful. Guaranteed to end in tears, but he did want to. However, if Alex didn’t feel the same, would he be able to handle that? Would he be able to handle losing his primary source of calm?

He had survived without Alex Manes for 21 years, but now that he had him, was he willing to risk losing him?

‘There you are.’ Alex’s voice broke through the _thump-thump-thump_ of the music inside. He sounded slightly out of breath and that was annoying because now that he realized what was going on, Michael understood why he felt that little swoop of “oh” in his stomach. He wanted Alex to sound breathless in other scenarios.

‘Here I am.’ Michael said simply. It was cold outside, he only just realized, too cold to be out here in nothing but a suit.

‘What are you doing out here? You don’t smoke, do you? Smoking is bad for you.’ Michael huffed out a laugh, his breath forming a little white cloud in front of him.

‘No, Alex, I don’t smoke. I just-‘ He tried to pull the sleeves of his jacket down further. ‘I just needed a minute.’ Now that he’d realized it was cold, he couldn’t avoid it anymore. Much like how his feelings for Alex were suddenly all he could think about.

‘It can get a little much, right?’ Alex said, softer, he sounded closer. Michael was afraid to look at him, but he did it anyways.

His hair was messier than it had been, his tie had been loosened, top two buttons open showing the tempting line of his neck. Yeah, looking at him had been a mistake.

But Alex was looking at him too. His eyes seemed to dart all over Michael’s face. Warm and wide and… fond?

‘Yeah, sometimes it feels like they’re draining all of my energy and soon there will be nothing left for me, of me.’ Michael said, forcing himself to look away from Alex. He tipped his head up to look at the sky. He heard Alex’s breath hitch. There were no clouds in the sky, probably why it was so cold and Michael could see the stars sparkling across the night sky, like Alex’s jacket.

‘I know the feeling.’ Alex said, he had somehow come closer again, his knuckles brushed against Michael’s.

‘Have you ever wondered what it would be like?’ Michael asked, trying to distract his racing mind (and heart) by looking for the Big Dipper. ‘To just be a normal, anonymous person out in the world?’

‘I know what it’s like.’ Alex said with a shrug. ‘My dad wasn’t always the POTUS, up until I was about thirteen I could go wherever I wanted and no one would look at me twice. It is not something you miss until you can’t have it anymore.’

‘Right, or when you’ve never had it.’

‘What would you want to do, if you could be anything?’ Alex asked, bumping his shoulder against Michael’s.

‘Astrophysics.’ Michael said. ‘I’d want to work for NASA, space is fascinating to me.’

‘Cool. I’d want to make music.’ Alex said, more quietly than before, almost like that was a secret.

‘Really cool. _I_ would also date more, probably.’ That startled a laugh out of Alex that broke the relative serenity of the moment they’d been having. It made Michael smile.

‘Oh come on, you’re a prince, it can’t be that hard.’

‘You’d be surprised. It’s hard to find someone who can look past the title and the palace.’ Michael said and it felt dangerously close to a confession. Alex seemed to realize that there was more to the sentence than met the eye. He turned his head to look at Michael, he could feel his eyes on him.

‘What are you trying to say?’ Alex asked, why did he have to sound so warm? So hopeful. Michael made himself look at him.

‘I’m saying that I think I may have found someone who is like that, but I’m not sure if they’re… available to me.’ A little crinkle appeared between Alex’s eyebrows.

‘This might just be because I’m tipsy but, _what_?’

Michael sighed and did something very, very stupid. He turned his whole body towards Alex, cupped his face between his hands and kissed him.

For a few seconds they were frozen like that. Alex still under his hands. Michael steeled himself for the rejection and pulled back. Alex was wide-eyed and slack-mouthed. For once, there was no witty retort, no smart-ass comment. There was no disgust yet, but it would come, he was sure of it, right about-

Alex seemed to stutter out of his paralysis and surged forward, their mouths crashed together again. Inelegant, a little clumsy. Alex made a noise in the back of his throat, digging his fingers into Michael’s curls. Michael kissed him back, his mouth sliding open.

He didn’t feel all that cold anymore. He felt hot, too hot. The material of Alex’s jacket was soft under his hands, his mouth was warm and insistent, the slide of his tongue against Michael’s made his head spin, the music was thumping in the background. He stumbled back, away from Alex.

There was a room full of people right there behind the row of bushes, there was Secret Service nearby, Alex’s father was somewhere in the giant house they were in the shadow of. He could read the shock on Alex’s face. He couldn’t stand here and wait for Alex to tell him they couldn’t do this.

‘I- shit. I’m sorry.’ He said and before his mind could fully catch up with his body he was hurrying away, past Oliver and back inside. He found Isobel easily, giggling at the bar with Maria. She took one look at him and sobered immediately.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘We need to leave. Now.’

Michael felt a little guilty calling Yasir at midnight when they’d told him he could take the night off, but he needed to get out of here, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They kissed! Hallelujah!  
> Yeah, I said "no more suspense" but uh, I was lying. Sorry!  
> Thank you so much for reading! I'll be back on Friday.
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, it is I, back again.   
> It's almost a little weird coming back to post these chapters, considering I'm currently writing Chapter 15. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos! It means a lot to me!

The most frustrating part about the whole thing was not that Michael literally fled the country after kissing him, it wasn’t that he hadn’t texted Alex back, or returned his calls. No the most frustrating part about the whole thing was that Alex just couldn’t stop _thinking_ about that kiss.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Michael’s hands on his face, the cool metal of his ring against Alex’s cheek, or the soft press of his lips, the smooth slide of his tongue, the way he’d tasted just faintly of whiskey. He wanted to stop thinking about it, _dreaming_ about it, but he fucking couldn’t.

Instead of paying attention to his father’s meetings, he spend most of them trying to figure out how he could get Michael to talk to him again.

He missed him, as much as he was pissed at Michael for kissing him and then bailing and fucking ghosting him, he still missed the bastard. He missed their bickering, he missed Michael’s never ending stream of strange space facts, he missed the soft sound of Michael’s breathing over the phone and he missed the quiet that conversations with Michael seemed to give him.

Sure, he talked to Liz and Maria and Kyle, but it wasn’t the same. He loved them, he did, but they didn’t seem to _get_ him like Michael did. Also, he couldn’t talk to them about what happened with Michael because he wasn’t about to out the guy, even if it was to his best friends and he knew they would never say anything. He might have mentioned to Liz he thought Michael was checking him out way in the beginning, but that wasn’t the same. This was real. Was he even allowed to tell anyone? He’d signed an NDA, but did that include surprise kisses in his back yard after which the prince ran away?

He’d kissed a prince.

A real life prince.

What even was his life?

And sure, he’d panicked about it at first, but that panic had quickly been overtaken by anger as he realized that Michael had bailed. He’d grabbed his sister and fled the fucking country. Leaving Alex behind with no explanation or nothing.

Kyle knew something was wrong, he always did, but Alex couldn’t talk to him, not about this. So he evaded, told him he wasn’t sleeping well (which wasn’t a lie, he’d been sleeping terribly), told him he was stressed about the Harvard thing (also not a lie). Nothing was just, quite the truth.

He felt like he was just sort of floating through life, unable to focus on anything specific, his thoughts were constantly intruded on by the image of Michael’s face right before he kissed Alex.

He held out for almost three weeks before his friends staged an intervention.

Literally.

One day he came back from sitting through a meeting between his father and the secretary of state, something boring about the border wall that was never going to happen anyways because there was no fucking money for it, to find Maria, Liz and Kyle waiting for him in his room, sitting on his bed. Maria was in town for a weekend, just because she wanted to see snow.

‘Uh, hi?’ He said, glancing over his shoulder at Oliver, who clearly knew what was going on.

‘I’ll be outside.’ Oliver said to the three and he closed the door behind Alex.

‘Alex, sweetie, come here.’ Maria said, patting the bed next to her.

Alex couldn’t help but approach slowly, suspiciously. This kind of felt like the start of a horror movie. Alex sat down on the edge of the bed. Kyle looked like he was being forced to be here, which made Alex feel slightly better.

‘So,’ Alex said, dragging the word out. ‘what’s up?’

‘I think that’s our line.’ Liz said, making a knowing face at him. ‘Something is up with you and you’ve been avoiding all three of us, so now we’re here and you’re going to tell us. Oliver will not let you out until you do.’

‘Uh, Oliver will totally let me out if I ask him to.’

‘No he won’t.’ Liz said happily. ‘He’s worried about you too.’ Alex rolled his eyes.

‘Look, I’m fine. I just haven’t been sleeping well-‘

‘Alex, you never sleep well, but you’ve never looked this out of it before. You’ve been acting really weird, ever since New Year’s.’ Maria said, reaching out to put her hand on his knee. ‘You know we love you, right?’

‘Yes, I do.’ Alex said, making a face at her. Of course he knew that.

‘Talk to us.’

‘If you only want to talk to one of us, that is cool too, we’re not trying to corner you.’ Kyle said from his left and Alex felt a swoop of affection for his best friend. ‘I mean, we’re trying to corner you a little, but not so much you freak out about it.’ Alex laughed, smiling warmly at Kyle. 

‘It’s not that I don’t want to tell you.’ Alex started. ‘It’s just that I shouldn’t.’ Liz made a confused face at him.

‘It doesn’t just involve you.’ Kyle concluded. ‘Whatever is bothering you, it doesn’t just involve you.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay, who would be the least nerve-wracking for you to tell?’ Kyle asked, simple and to the point, just what Alex needed. Shit, he needed to spend more time with him.

‘Liz.’ Alex decided, going on his gut instinct. Liz was the only one who already had some inkling of something between him and Michael. Kyle, to his credit, didn’t show any sign of being annoyed.

‘Alright, me and Maria will go have some coffee with Oliver, and you’ll talk to Liz.’ Kyle said, motioning for Maria to follow him. She sighed, but got up anyways. She squeezed his shoulder before following Kyle from the room. He could hear his friend cheerfully telling Oliver that he was going to have some of the good coffee today, not that shit they normally fed the Secret Service.

Their voices retreated down the hallway and Alex could feel the uncertainty crawl all over him like a bunch of little spiders.

‘Alright, spill. I assume this has something to do with the prince?’ Liz said, folding her hands in her lap as she leaned back against the headboard.

‘What makes you say that?’ He asked instead of answering.

‘You don’t usually choose me for the conversations about emotions, which I understand, I’m not the best at that stuff, so there has to be another reason. You’ve been weird since the party, the prince was there and disappeared suddenly, you haven’t been glued to your phone as much and we did already have a conversation about your… attraction to your mortal enemy before.’ Well, when Liz summed it up like that, it did seem blaringly obvious.

‘I didn’t want to talk to any of you because I don’t want to- I- ugh, it’s a moral dilemma.’

‘I will swear to you, I will not tell anyone anything of what you say here. I promise.’ Liz said earnestly. He knew she’d keep her promise too, Liz was good like that.

Alex really needed an outside perspective on this.

‘He kissed me.’ Liz’s eyes widened. ‘At the New Year’s party. I kissed him back and then he basically ran away, fled the country and now he hasn’t talked to me in three weeks which is fucking unfair because _he_ kissed _me_ first. He can’t just do that and then run away and ghost me, right? Like, I never thought I could have that, you know, and then he goes and gives me hope and then runs away. But the fucking stupidest part is that I still miss him.’ The last part came out really fucking small and Alex wanted to kick himself in the teeth.

‘Oh Alex.’

‘Yes “oh Alex”, I’ve tried texting him and I even tried calling and we don’t call, unless it’s like a turkey emergency or a phone call about shitty royal relatives that ruin Christmas and the fucker just didn’t answer.’ Liz looked momentarily confused about the “turkey emergency” part, but she seemed to decide to let it go, for now.

‘Have you considered he may have freaked out a little?’

‘Well yeah duh, he fled the country, it’s pretty clear he freaked out, but he could’ve at least send me a text saying he needed some time or something.’

‘Alex, I’m not just talking about him kissing you.’ Now it was Alex’s turn to look confused. ‘He’s a prince, they don’t get to be gay or bisexual or whatever he is.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah, as much as you can’t be out because of your dad, he can’t be out because of the Crown.’ She smiled gently at him. ‘He was probably a little tipsy, kissed you, freaked out about it and then when he’d calmed down a little, he probably thought it was too late.’

‘So, do you think he actually has like, _feelings_ for me?’

‘Do you have feelings for him?’ Alex had to consider that for a second.

‘Yeah, I do like him, beyond the fact that he’s hot.’ He admitted, and maybe it was more than just “like” too. ‘He’s just so frustratingly smart, and not at all what you’d expect and he makes me feel…’ Alex tried to find the right word. ‘fearless.’ He took a deep breath, looking at her. ‘And that’s fucking terrifying.’ Liz smiled, soft and warm.

‘Yes it is, and it’s probably like that for him too.’

Alex wouldn’t pretend like he wasn’t still angry, because he was. There were a lot of options that were better than just cutting off contact entirely, but he did sort of understand the desire to run and hide and just pretend none of it was there until it went away. But Alex wasn’t going to go away.

It wasn’t like Alex wanted to go and hold his hand as he walked down the street. His father would kill him. He was absolutely not about to come out and tell the world “hey, I’m hella gay”, in fact, the idea alone made him feel sick, but he still didn’t run.

Okay, well, maybe if Michael had given him a little more time, he might have freaked out and ran, but he still wouldn’t have cut of contact entirely. Probably. Most likely.

‘He’ll be here for the state dinner next week, right?’ Liz said. ‘You can talk to him then.’ She leaned over to pat him on the knee. ‘Just because you figured out at fourteen that you were, in fact, gay, doesn’t mean everyone else did too.’

‘Well now I feel guilty.’

‘Don’t, what he did was still shitty, but there’s probably a good reason for it.’ She smiled. ‘And you still like him, so just try and actually get some rest. If you don’t look out for yourself, you’re going to crash and burn.’ Her smile sharpened into a grin. ‘Now, I heard something about non-shitty White House coffee?’

Alex huffed out a laugh, but let her drag him from the room in search of their friends.

Alex hated the state dinner.

It was stuffy, boring and _long_ , God it lasted so long. Alex had to go around and talk to all kinds of world leaders that didn’t seem to be able to separate him from his father. But also, he had to watch Michael from a distance the whole time. He took one look at Alex, blanched and fled into a conversation with the PM of France. It send a spike of annoyance through him.

It also didn’t help that Michael looked like a fucking fairy-tale prince. Alex would have sworn his curls were more golden, and his shoulders had gotten wider. Were his eyes always that hazel? His tie was an obnoxious coppery colour. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to shove him into a wall, or kiss him. Maybe both, probably both.

‘Pictures.’ Harvey said in a low, commanding tone, taking a hold of Alex’s upper arm and pulling him towards Michael. Michael looked stoic and when Harvey planted Alex next to him a forced that annoying plain smile on his face that Alex hated. Alex made himself grin, it was probably too sharp, almost on the verge of unbelievable, but it was the best he could do.

If he didn’t have a vivid memory of the kiss, he’d almost be convinced that maybe it didn’t happen with how quickly Michael moved away from him. It was insane. They seemed worse now than they had before the whole wedding incident. Alex _almost_ wished Michael had never kissed him in the first place.

‘I need a few minutes alone with the prince.’ Alex said after he’d walked up to Oliver. He was about done turning and twisting around this. He’d been stewing on this for about a month now, he needed to get this out of the way so that he could maybe, finally get some sort of sleep.

Oliver gave him a look, eyebrows drawn together, suspicious tilt to his head.

‘Please tell me you’re not going to kill him. If you are, don’t answer that. Plausible deniability.’ Alex rolled his eyes.

‘I’m not going to kill him. Probably.’ Oliver sighed.

‘We’ll have to check with his security team-‘

‘No, I need him _alone_.’ Alex said with a little more force.

Oliver cast his eyes to the sky, mumbling something Alex didn’t quite catch.

‘Five minutes, in the Red Room.’ Oliver nodded at the double doors leading off this room to the Red Room. It send a wave of panic through him. The idea that his father would be right there, in the next room. Oliver must have been able to read it on him. ‘He’s going to be staying in the residence tonight, right?’ He offered.

‘Yes, thank you.’ A plan was forming in Alex’s head. Get him alone, tell him to meet him in the residence later, yell at him a little. Oliver nodded and started to head for the doors to the Red Room. Alex headed over to Michael.

‘Alex-‘ Michael started as he got close, but Alex held his hand up with a sharp smile at the lady he was talking to (the chancellor of Germany?).

‘Excuse me, but I have to steal the prince for a second.’ Alex said, full on dazzling politics mode. Just grin and pretend like you know what you’re doing. The chancellor just smiled at him and nodded. Alex turned and started heading for the Red Room, casually, not drawing attention to himself. He was assuming Michael would follow.

Oliver was waiting at the door.

‘Five minutes, and keep your voice down.’ He said before pushing the door open and letting Alex slip through. Michael did, in fact, follow him. Oliver closed the door behind them and Alex made sure to head further into the room, away from the door.

‘So, is this the part where you have me killed?’ Michael asked with more attitude than Alex had heard from him all night.

‘Fuck you.’ Alex hissed, whirling around. ‘You’re the one that kissed me, fled the country and then fucking ghosted me.’ Alex found his feet moving towards him on automatic. ‘Glad to see you’re not dead.’ He sneered before wrapping that stupid copper tie around his hand and pushing Michael backwards towards the nearest wall.

Alex didn’t think he’d made a decision yet on what to do, but his body seemed to disagree.

Michael ended up hitting the wall next to a really expensive vase on a table. There was a flash of something hot in his eyes and before Alex really realized what he was doing, he crushed their mouths together. Fuck it. Fuck it all.

Michael was frozen for a few seconds, and for a terrifyingly long heartbeat, Alex thought he may have made a giant mistake. Then Michael was kissing him back and his mind shut down.

His heart was racing, Michael was so warm and firm under his hands. He kissed him and kissed him and kissed him.

‘Wait, wait, wait.’ Michael said, pushing Alex back a little. He looked messed up and he was breathing hard and Alex could feel it down to his toes. He did that.

‘What?’ Alex let go of his tie, it was crooked now. He did that.

‘This is a terrible place for this.’ Michael was still standing pressed against the wall.

‘I know that, but you didn’t exactly give me a choice.’ Alex cleared his throat. ‘You kept avoiding me.’

‘I- yeah. I did.’

‘Do you know which bedroom is mine?’ Michael’s eyes widened and he wobbled a little. ‘The East bedroom in the residence. We can justify leaving at around eleven, meet me there.’ Alex said, Michael swallowed but then nodded sharply and with a little enthusiasm.

‘Yes, I can do that.’ Alex ran his tongue along the back of his teeth.

‘Okay.’ He hadn’t actually expected to get this far, or maybe his plan had just ended here.

He stepped closer again, filing away the noise of Michael’s breath hitching, he reached over to straighten Michael’s tie. He could see his fingers flexing at his sides. When Alex pulled his hands back, Michael’s came up, fixing Alex’s jacket and running a quick hand through his hair. Alex couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down his spine. Michael actually smiled a little, and Alex rolled his eyes.

‘Eleven, got it?’ He said before stepping back.

He honestly wasn’t really sure what he was doing, other than something stupid. Well, he was doing something he wanted to do, but also something his father would probably have him killed for. But what his dad didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him, right? He had said he was glad Alex was showing interest in international relations.

He was pretty sure his dad hadn’t meant making out with a prince, but he didn’t specify, so Alex could justify it to himself. Maybe.

‘Yes, got it.’ Michael nodded. His breathing was still a little off and Alex found himself smiling. Really smiling. He licked his lips, finding traces of the red wine Michael had been drinking. Michael’s eyes dipped down to his mouth and Alex didn’t try to stop himself as he stepped back into Michael’s space for a second, lingering kiss.

The breath Michael released as they parted was so relieved, Alex almost felt a little guilty for being so mad. They had clearly both been freaking out about this.

‘You better stay on the other side of the room from me.’ Alex warned as he headed back in the direction of the door. He knocked on the door once and Oliver opened it a little. He checked Alex over before holding the door open further so that Alex could slip out, back into the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I will be back on Sunday for our spiciest chapter yet :)  
> (I swear I'm not trying to end these chapters like this every time....)
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, three more chapters done!   
> This is the first chapter that gets properly smutty. I'm not really a smut writer, so there won't be too much of it in this fic, but I'll dabble once in a while.

Okay so, Michael wasn’t nervous. He wasn’t nearly vibrating out of his skin. He was fine. Calm. Cool. Collected. Oh, who the fuck was he trying to fool? He was terrified. He changed his mind about going at least five times.

What eventually pushed him over the edge to get him out of his room was the simple fact that he realized he wanted to.

The way Alex kissed him had felt like no other kiss Michael had had before. He’d kissed plenty of girls before, but none had ever made Michael feel so off-kilter, so completely out of his depth, so rattled. He wanted, and that was scary as hell.

Isobel had seemed really surprised that Michael hadn’t realized he was bisexual before the party where he’d kissed Alex. Looking back, there were signs, he supposed. Maybe he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. He’d realized he could look at a man and think “yeah, he’s attractive”, but he’d never wanted to actually do anything about it. He figured that it was just like that for everyone. Isobel said it all the time about other girls, and she wasn’t- oh. Maybe he’d missed that too.

He’d tried to get out of the state dinner, he was honestly a little scared of facing Alex, but also he was mostly terrified Jesse fucking Manes would have Secret Service agents ready to kill him for defiling his youngest son.

Yasir wouldn’t let him though, since he couldn’t exactly tell him why he was afraid the first son would stab him in the neck. So he’d resigned himself to a slow, painful death and had said goodbye to his sister (she’d rolled her eyes at him and called him dramatic).

He hadn’t really been expecting to get kissed when Alex advanced on him with that spark in his eyes. Michael was willing to roll with it, didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous. For all of his bravado when it came to girls, he hadn’t actually done anything like this with a guy before.

So he paced the hall near Alex’s room at 10:55 and ignored the amused eyes of the secret service guy on him. Oliver. The guy who had guarded the door for them. Did he know exactly what Michael was here for?

‘What the fuck am I _doing_?’ Michael whispered at himself.

‘Pacing a hole in the carpet.’ Oliver offered, making Michael jump. ‘Oh I’m sorry, Your Highness, was I not supposed to answer that?’

‘Smartass Americans.’ Michael mumbled. He didn’t let himself hesitate anymore before closing the distance between him and the door and knocking.

It only took a few seconds for Alex to open the door. Much like Michael he’d lost his jacket and tie already, Michael could see them on a hanger over Alex’s shoulder. He allowed himself to just look at him for a second.

Yeah. He got it now. There was something effortlessly beautiful about him, but he wasn’t perfect. All the little things that weren’t perfect, just made him interesting to look at. The scar over his eyebrow that Michael always wanted to ask about, but never had. Faint dark circles under his eyes, from the long nights and early mornings. Those round cheeks that were just begging to be kissed.

‘Hi.’ Alex said, opening the door a little further so that Michael could step inside. He turned around to watch Alex close the door behind them, the resounding click of the lock made Michael’s pulse pick up speed.

‘Hi.’ Michael replied. Alex turned around, putting his back against the door. It was like Alex had his own gravitational pull because Michael stepped closer without even thinking about it. Alex was already reaching for him and it settled something within Michael. Something he hadn’t even realized was loose. Alex wanted this too, he wanted Michael.

He kissed him, because that’s why he was here. He couldn’t quite help but kiss him softer, more languid, seemingly without purpose, just _because_ , and Alex let him. He kissed him back, but let Michael set the pace. His hands, musician’s hands, slid up Michael’s chest, along the side of his neck and into his hair. Michael traced his thumbs over those soft, soft cheeks.

When Michael nipped at Alex’s bottom lip, a mini experiment, and Alex made a broken, half-abandoned noise in the back of his throat and slow didn’t really seem like a priority anymore. He kissed him deeper, pulling Alex against him with one hand, digging his other hand in Alex’s hair. Alex tugged on his curls, tilting his head to change the angle. Yes. That was good.

One of Alex’s hands trailed down and slipped under his shirt, his hands were a little cold, but it was like that elevated the whole thing. It made everything suddenly feel super real. No broken-off dreams that he ignored as he woke up at 4:30 in the morning, no more half thoughts of what-if. He was here, with Alex’s hands on his skin and his tongue brushing against Michael’s. He wanted more.

He somehow managed to convince his hands to release Alex. He fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Alex lost his patience after approximately three seconds. He grabbed at the bottom of Michael’s button up and just pulled it up over Michael’s head. He flung it off to the side without looking and dove forward again, pushing off the door and walking Michael backwards a little as his hands slid up Michael’s chest.

‘Have you-‘ Alex interrupted himself with a kiss. ‘ever done this before?’

‘Uh.’ Michael’s brain seemed to need a second to catch up. ‘Yeah, just not with-‘ Another kiss. ‘Not with a guy.’ Alex actually pulled back a little at that, which wasn’t really what Michael wanted, although his head was spinning a little. Maybe he needed to breathe.

‘Do you want to slow down?’ Alex asked, suddenly earnest.

‘I want-‘ Michael reached for the buttons of Alex’s shirt. ‘I want to be on the couch.’

‘I have one of those.’ Alex said, pulling Michael towards it, fingers wrapped around Michael’s wrist. Michael found himself pushed back onto the couch, the material was soft against his bare back.

‘Take that off.’ Michael said, motioning for Alex’s shirt. Alex smirked and started undoing his shirt button for torturous button. Michael dropped his head back with a groan. ‘ _Alex_.’

‘What?’

‘Hurry up.’ He tipped his head forward again, because as torturous as it was he wanted to see the slow revelation of his silky skin.

‘Bossy.’ Alex mumbled as he slid the shirt off his shoulders.

He’d seen Alex shirtless before, that one night in Kensington palace, but he hadn’t allowed himself to _look_ like he did now. He didn’t think Alex played any actual sports, not like Michael played polo and the occasional game of rugby, but he looked like a runner. Wiry and lean, vague outline of abs on his flat stomach, but not like those models in the magazines that looked photoshopped. The curve of his hip looked impossibly soft and Michael felt like he might die if he didn’t kiss that spot at some point.

Alex approached and Michael could feel the groan bubble up in his throat. He leaned forward, one hand on the back of the couch, the other brushed over the side of Michael’s neck.

‘You ran away.’ Alex said in a low voice, gooseflesh sprung up all over Michael’s arms. 

‘I was scared.’

‘Of what?’

‘Of you punching me in the face,’ Michael swallowed as Alex’s thumb brushed over the cut of his jaw. ‘or your father making me disappear never to be seen again.’ Alex stilled at that. He looked scared.

Suddenly, it all seemed crystal clear to him.

‘He would make me disappear first. He wouldn’t risk England as an ally.’ The casualness of the statement made Michael want to wrap Alex up in a blanket and kidnap him to some warm, tropical island where they could live in peace. ‘If you thought that, why did you kiss me?’

‘I was tipsy, and I wanted to.’ Michael said. Alex leaned forward, brushing his lips along Michael’s jaw. ‘And I hoped you wouldn’t, thought you might-‘ Michael’s voice stuttered for a second as Alex’s teeth scraped over his neck. ‘-want me too. I saw you with Maria and I- I-‘

‘You were _jealous_?’ Alex asked, his breath hot against Michael’s skin, he could hear the grin in his voice.

Michael reached out and curled his hand around Alex’s hip. It really was as soft and smooth as it looked. He pulled him forward so that Alex landed in his lap.

‘Yes, I was jealous you arsehole.’ Michael slid his hands up Alex’s back, feeling the bumps of his spine under his hands. ‘Now can you stop teasing me?’

Instead of replying Alex just pressed himself closer, his thighs on each side of Michael’s legs, and the little fucker rolled his hips as he kissed Michael. This wasn’t like that first kiss in Alex’s bedroom. A spark of heat shot up Michael’s spine. He brought one of his hands up to cup Alex’s face again, sliding his tongue against Alex’s.

They ignited.

Alex bit down on Michael’s lip and rolled his hips again. He could feel they were both half-hard already. Michael kissed him harder, pulled him closer. Skin against warm skin and his breath got caught in his throat.

It was like Alex could read him like an open book. The way his thumb pressed against Michael’s collarbone made him feel like someone struck a match and set him on fire. Heat rushed through him, he melted. Melted under those talented hands, the hands he’d seen sliding over the piano with an almost wistful look, the hands that had yanked at his tie, strong and angry, the hands currently digging into his hair. Taking him apart.

He felt like the entire world shrunk down to just this room, this couch, them. Who cared about the Crown or the President? Who cared about politics or rules when Alex’s hands clenched in his hair when Michael rand his hands up his thighs? Who cared about titles when Alex made that little noise in the back of his throat?

Alex, slithered back, off Michael’s lap while he trailed his hands down Michael’s chest, reaching for his belt. He landed on his knees in front of Michael and as much as this was a _vision_ -

‘Wait.’ Alex’s hands froze immediately. He looked up at Michael, eyes wide, but otherwise betraying nothing. ‘I want you on the bed.’ Alex’s blank face melted slowly into a grin.

‘Alright.’ He shrugged, setting his hands high on Michael’s thighs to push himself onto his feet. He turned and looked at Michael over his shoulder. ‘Come on, Your Highness.’ He was teasing and coy.

Michael couldn’t believe he ever thought he was straight.

He didn’t feel hesitant though. As much as this was new for him, this felt right, like something just clicked into place.

So he pushed himself off the couch and followed Alex to the bed. He’d already crawled onto the soft, dark blue sheets (giving Michael a truly spectacular view of his ass) and he was now leaning back on his elbows, watching Michael with hooded eyes as he approached. He did his best to come off as self-assured as he slid his thigh between Alex’s and leaned over him. He trailed his hand up his stomach, while the other made sure he didn’t crush Alex by holding up his weight.

It said something about how distracted he’d been that he only now noticed the thin silver chain around Alex’s neck, a small silver ring resting on his sternum. It looked far too small to be Alex’s, too feminine in the curve and the detailed flower pattern.

‘What is this?’ He asked, even though they were finally getting somewhere. Alex sighed.

‘A ring, it used to belong to my mom. It’s the only thing I have of her.’ Right, mom, out of the picture, name unknown. Alex said it softly, looking up at Michael with those big, warm eyes. Were there specks of gold in there? ‘I guess I wear it to remind myself that there is more to me than just my father and what he’s… taught me.’

‘Does he know you wear it?’ Alex huffed, sneaky smile appearing on his face.

‘Nope, he thinks I’m wearing a cross.’ Michael found himself grinning. ‘I think he thinks that means I can’t be gay because otherwise it would burn me or something.’ It was the first time Alex had said it out loud and there was something about that that made Michael feel like Alex trusted him. The fact that they were doing this in the first place spoke of trust, not quite “just sex”.

Speaking of sex.

‘Okay. I’ve never done this before, but I want to.’ Michael said, sliding his hand down again, towards Alex’s belt.

‘I can-‘ Alex’s breath hitched as Michael dipped his fingertips under the waistband of his slacks. ‘I can do you first, you’re a quick study, right?’ That was actually not a bad idea. So he nodded.

In a smooth move that shouldn’t have been sexy, but totally was, Alex flipped them over. He sat back on his haunches, nimble fingers undoing Michael’s belt and then the button and his fly. Alex paused, looking at him expectantly. He was asking for permission.

‘Take my pants off.’ Michael said. All he got in reply was a raised eyebrow. ‘Please?’

‘Better.’ Alex said before doing as Michael asked.

He hadn’t quite known what to expect of Alex, but seeing the perfectly All-American son of Jesse “everything that isn’t normal doesn’t deserve protection” Manes, spit in his palm to then wrap it around Michael’s cock wasn’t it. He moaned, dropping his head back as Alex got to work.

He was good at this. There was no way this was his first time doing this. It spiked a vague sense of curiosity, one he couldn’t quite hold onto through the overwhelming sense of “oh please yes right there”. Michael cursed, quite loudly as Alex licked a stripe up his cock. Alex looked up at him through his lashes.

‘Shush, Your Highness.’

Michael tried, he really did, but he couldn’t help the string of profanities that spilled from his mouth. He tried to pay attention to what Alex was doing, how he was making Michael come apart at the seams. He was maddening and so fucking beautiful. He may have said that out loud. He may also have called Alex “darling” at some point. He found himself gasping and arching off the bed as he came.

‘Shit.’ He managed as he flopped back onto the bed. He needed a second to process all that. Alex laid down next to him, how did he still look so graceful?

‘How eloquent.’ Alex said, a little breathless.

‘Let’s see how eloquent you still are when I’m done with you.’

‘Oh, confidence, I like it.’ Alex said, sliding one hand behind his head and smirking. Michael was going to wipe that smirk off his face. He rolled over towards Alex, kissing him deeply, licking the taste of himself off Alex’s lips and he started making his way down Alex’s chest. When he kissed over his heart, he swore he could feel it thumping under his lips.

‘I still don’t really know what I’m doing.’ Michael said after pressing a kiss next to Alex’s belly button. ‘So tell me if it’s horrible.’

‘As long as you remember not to use your teeth’ Michael nipped at his hip just to tease him. ‘you’ll be fine.’ Alex’s breath had sped up considerably and Michael hadn’t even done anything yet. It made him feel a little more confident, how hard could it be?

It wasn’t super easy, sometimes a little uncomfortable. He was going to end up with a weird crick in his neck, but judging by Alex’s reactions, he was doing pretty good. Words kept tumbling from his mouth like he had zero control over them and that felt pretty nice. The taste of Alex wasn’t too bad on his tongue and he did enjoy making Alex feel good.

He also, apparently, enjoyed it when Alex called him sweet things. When Alex groaned out a half broken “sweetheart” Michael could feel his pulse jump. When Michael did a particular thing with his tongue that he thought Alex may have done too, Alex let out an almost hysterical giggle, his hands clutching at the sheets as he mumbled something that sounded dangerously close to “God save the Queen”. By the time Alex came, Michael’s jaw felt a little achy, but nothing too bad.

He flopped back down onto the bed and they laid in silence for a minute or so.

‘So, good?’ Michael asked, when it seemed like Alex was back in the land of the living.

‘Yeah, not bad at all for your first time.’ Alex said rolling onto his side and grinning at him.

Michael wasn’t sure where to go next, he hadn’t exactly been taught how to deal with this situation. How was he supposed to figure out what to do now that he’d had the cock of the FSOTUS in his mouth?

‘Well,’ he just opened with. He flinched at his own awkwardness immediately.

‘Relax.’ Alex sighed.

‘I am relaxed.’ He lied.

‘Look, this was fun, yes? I had fun, you had fun, we can do this again whenever.’ Alex said, like it was simple. Nothing about this could ever be simple, right? Except in the moment it had _felt_ simple.

‘Right.’

‘If you wanna, at least.’ Alex’s voice dipped back into that unreadable (which he now recognized as nervous) register.

‘I want to.’ He immediately reassured. ‘I guess it’s a little redundant now, but uh, I’m bisexual.’ He could see Alex bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh, but the corners of his eyes crinkled and Michael very deliberately didn’t kiss the hell out of him.

‘Okay, well, I’m very gay.’ He said while trailing his eyes down Michael’s chest. ‘So we can do this again.’ Alex hesitated only a little before continuing. ‘You could stay for another round, but you should probably go back to your own room before morning, I don’t really want your PPO’s to put the White House on lockdown, and I also really don’t want to explain why you’re in my bed.’ It was all completely logical, and it still made Michael feel a little awkward.

Right, they weren’t _dating_. They were just friends who would sleep together whenever they got the chance. Friends and long distance booty calls?

‘Yes, you are right. I should go back to my own room.’ He forced himself up out of bed and towards his clothes. Alex stayed quiet as Michael got dressed, but he started moving when Michael headed for the door. He had put on boxers, but not a whole lot more and Michael got the treat of watching him walk towards him one more time. Michael hesitated, unsure of what to do. Alex sighed.

‘We just had each other’s dicks in our mouths, you can kiss me goodnight.’ Alex said, plain and simple.

Michael could feel the laugh bubble up in his chest and instead of squishing it down, he let it bubble up and out. He grinned and Alex grinned back. He gave him one final kiss and then slipped from the room. Oliver pointedly did not look at him as he headed down the hall. Thank God for staff NDAs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading.   
> I plan on getting into Michael's bi-panic a bit more later on, mostly through a conversation with Isobel, but for now the boys were a little busy.   
> More to come on Wednesday
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Chapter Ten incoming!   
> Thank you all so much for your support on this, it means a lot!

Two weeks was a long time, apparently. 14 days didn’t seem all that long in the grand scheme of things, but once Alex had a taste, it turned out Michael was addictive. He told Michael everything except that in his texts. He’d been nervous, if they could keep up their friendship like they had before, but it seemed like maybe they’d already been flirting before, now there was just intent behind it.

‘I’m sorry, you want me to come to what now?’ Alex asked, letting himself fall onto Liz’s bed.

He was in New York for two days visiting her, they were going to a Broadway show, Alex really hoped he wouldn’t get singled out because his dad was a dick, like what had happened to the VP in his first year in office.

‘I have a charity thing in- shit where’s that paper- ah, I can’t find it. Anyways, I have a charity polo thing _somewhere_ in the US and it’s 10.000 dollars a seat, I could have you put on the list.’

‘ _Ten thousand dollars_?’ Alex repeated, Liz looked over at him, confused. ‘Are the seats made of gold? They better be made of gold.’

‘It’s for _charity_ , Alex.’

‘But, like, I won’t have to pay right?’ Alex asked. ‘Because I don’t have ten thousand dollars laying around and I don’t see my dad paying for me to go to a charity thing.’

‘No, you’ll be my guest, along with Isobel and Noah.’

‘Oh okay, when is this?’

‘This weekend- ah! Here it is, it’s in Connecticut?’ Michael sounded like he had no idea where that was, and that was probably not that strange.

‘I’ll have to check with Harvey,’ he was totally going to make sure his schedule was cleared. ‘but I’ll try to make it. Send me the details.’

‘I will do that.’

‘You want me to clear your schedule because you’re going to a _charity polo match_?’ Harvey asked when Alex called him.

‘The prince invited me, what was I supposed to do, say no?’

‘You could have, you were supposed to be at the Senate meeting to smile and look pretty.’ Alex rolled his eyes.

‘Instead I’m going to Connecticut to smile and look pretty and get my picture taken with a prince.’

‘I thought you were _asking_?’ Harvey said, Alex clenched his jaw.

‘Look, if you tell me I can’t go, you can be the one call to Buckingham palace and explain that you think a Senate meeting where I won’t be doing shit is more important than a personal invitation of their prince. By all means, be my guest.’ If there was one thing Alex learned from his father, it was that in order to get people to do what you wanted, you just gave them the option you wanted, and a much more unfavourable one (it didn’t matter if it was true or not). It worked especially well with smarmy men like Harvey.

‘Fine.’ Harvey said after a beat. ‘I’ll clear your schedule.’

‘Thank you Harvey.’ Alex said sweetly. When he hung up he let the smile fall from his face.

‘So, Connecticut?’ Liz asked, spinning around the chair of the desk she’d been working at.

‘Yep, Connecticut.’ Alex confirmed. ‘But first, Hamilton.’ Liz grinned.

‘It’s going to be so good.’

Hunter had been pissed that Alex was ditching him to go to a charity thing, but Alex didn’t really care. They wanted him to sell the whole “the prince and the first son are best friends” right? Well, this was him selling it. Of course, they didn’t need to know about their extracurricular activities.

Now, Alex realized pretty quickly he’d made a tiny little mistake. No, it wasn’t in the way he was dressed, although there were people that looked _much_ fancier than Alex did, he was fine in that regard. No, the mistake he’d made was that he hadn’t accounted for Michael being _good_. He figured inviting a prince was a curtesy thing, and that they’d bring him in in the final minutes and they’d let him score a goal, but no. Michael was good.

Alex had a very limited (also known as pretty much zero) understanding of the rules of polo, but Isobel kept explaining things to him under her breath, the crowd would cheer and Alex was pretty smart so he figured it out.

The mistake he’d made was based on his major weakness: Competence.

He’d never cared much for looks (although they were a nice perk, of course), the main thing that attracted him to a person was intelligence, expertise, something that they excelled in. That’s why he didn’t really have a physical type.

Michael on a horse with those tight white riding pants that made his thighs look like they were made of steel? The pants that made his ass look otherworldly? Leather boots? A little sweaty? Yeah, that was apparently a thing he was into now. It didn’t help that Michael kept doing impressive things and that he would grin with that slight edge of “I know”.

That same stupid smirk he’d had on his stupidly attractive face after he’d blown Alex’s mind (and other things). God, that night. Addiction was a bitch and shit, Michael was like heroin.

The match ended and Alex applauded politely with all the others. He was pretty sure Michael’s team won, but who really cared when he was steering his horse over to the fence that Isobel, Noah and Alex were behind. Isobel pushed off her chair and Alex followed.

‘Good job, brother.’ Isobel said, tilting her head to the side. ‘A little show-off-ish, but good.’ Alex turned to her with raised eyebrows and then back to Michael with a smirk.

‘Showing off? What, afraid I would think this whole shebang was boring?’ Alex asked, setting his elbows on the fence.

‘Did you?’ Michael asked, bringing up his hand to wave over an impeccably dressed stable hand. He hopped off the horse with a practiced movement.

‘Nah, it was pretty entertaining.’ He said, biting down on the “lots of eye candy” he wanted to add on. Isobel was right there. ‘I didn’t understand half of it, but it seemed like you did well.’

‘I’m going to go say hello to that wretched countess.’ Isobel said with a blank smile before sauntering off in the direction of a lady in a dress so purple it gave Alex a headache.

‘So,’ Michael said, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead. God Alex wanted to get his hands on him. Some of that must have shown on his face. ‘I should, uh, go check on the horse, in the stables, where there’s no camera’s allowed.’

‘Hm, yeah, I should help you with that.’ Alex nodded as Michael’s eyes darted over his face.

‘Do you know anything about horses?’ He asked, fiddling with the gloves still on his hands.

‘Are we actually talking about horses?’

‘I really hope not.’

‘I’ll meet you in the stables. You better have a room where you can show me that thing you’ve been meaning to show me.’ Alex said with a pointed look. Michael coughed.

‘Uh yes, working on it.’

‘Good.’ Alex said before turning around and heading for Oliver first. Oliver cast his eyes towards the sky before Alex even opened his mouth.

‘I don’t wanna know.’

‘Plausible deniability, yeah I know. I’m just going to head into the stables, Michael needs to show me something.’ Alex said and Oliver made a face.

‘Yeah, I bet he does.’ He mumbled. Alex bit the inside of his cheek to try and contain his grin.

‘Thirty minutes.’ Alex said, pressing his lips together in what he hoped was an innocent look.

‘God give me strength.’ Oliver just replied. Alex was just going to take that as a confirmation.

He headed towards the stables. He just pretended like he belonged there and like he knew where he was going and no one tried to stop him. That trick usually worked. Also, he had been around horses before, so he wasn’t scared. He turned a corner and almost ran into the guy he was looking for.

He’d ditched his helmet and his hair looked like he’d tried to fix it with his hands, but he hadn’t quite succeeded. His eyes immediately darted down to Alex’s mouth and he wouldn’t even pretend that he wasn’t a little smug about that.

‘So, where to?’

‘Tack room.’ Michael said before clearing his throat. Alex motioned with his hand for Michael to lead the way.

Even though Alex was from what some would call cowboy-country, he didn’t exactly have a lot of experience with horses. He knew they weren’t murderous creatures and he knew enough to know its head from its tail, but that was about it. Michael lead him into what he could only describe as-

‘Is this a rich person’s sex dungeon?’ Michael choked on a laugh.

‘Uh no, like I said: tack room.’ Alex made a non-committal humming noise. There _was_ a lot of leather here. But there was also a prince here in tight riding pants, so who had time to study any of that?

‘Sit down.’ Alex nodded over to the bench in the middle of the room. Alex turned around to the door and locked it. When he turned back, Michael was sitting there, flexing his hands at his sides, watching Alex with a hungry expression on his face.

Oh yeah, this was happening.

‘Do you have any idea what you do to me?’ Michael asked.

‘What _I_ do to _you_?’ Alex asked as he approached. ‘You’re the one prancing around in those _pants_ with those fucking leather boots.’

‘You like my boots?’ Michael asked with a smirk. I like you.

‘I’m going to suck your dick now.’ Alex said, dropping to his knees in front of Michael who’s breathing stuttered.

‘Oh God.’ Michael said.

‘Nope just Alex.’

‘God help me.’

‘God’s not going to help you with this, baby.’ Alex said as he wasted no time getting Michael’s belt off and his pants open. Still he didn’t miss the way Michael’s dick, already half-hard under his fingers, jumped at the pet name. He looked up at Michael through his lashes. ‘Yeah?’

‘Shut _up_.’ Michael said, but he already sounded half-way towards wrecked.

‘You like it when I call you baby?’

‘I’m serious, you promised me something that involves less talking.’

And that was true. So Alex got to it. The stone floor wasn’t nice under his knees, but Michael was distracting enough that it didn’t matter. He pulled out every trick he knew, everything he’d learned in college and it didn’t take very long for Michael to start swearing under his breath. His fingers flexed on the bench and Alex just gave up and reached over to put one of them in his hair. Michael groaned, long and low and Alex hummed, drawing a curse from Michael.

‘You are going to be the death of me.’ He said, breathless and desperate. Alex didn’t reply, he was busy.

When Michael finished, he barely gave Alex time to swallow before he was yanking him up to his feet and kissing him. Hot and hard and heavy and Alex could feel it down to his toes. Michael kissed his way to Alex’s neck.

‘You think I couldn’t-‘ He scraped his teeth over the spot behind Alex’s ear. ‘-feel your eyes on me the whole time?’

‘If you leave a mark on me I _will_ kill you.’ Alex said, breathless and he was a little dizzy. Michael’s hand slipped down into his pants (when had he undone his pants?), Alex’s brain stuttered on whatever words he’d been about to say.

‘That’s no way to talk to a prince.’ Michael said, but he was still too breathless to really pull of the snooty tone.

‘What do you want me to do-‘ Alex’s fingers clenched around Michael’s shoulder. ‘bow?’

‘I do like you on your knees.’

‘Ugh, that’s kind of gross.’ Alex said as Michael’s hand stilled on his dick. That was the opposite of what he wanted.

‘Yeah I regretted it the moment I said it.’ Michael said with a flinch. ‘Let’s blame it on post-orgasmic IQ reduction.’

‘We can call it whatever you want, just get on me.’ Michael grinned at him, a lopsided little thing that made Alex’s stomach clench. ‘And unless you want my jizz all over you, you might wanna-‘

Before Alex could finish that, Michael manoeuvred him off his lap and onto the bench as he dropped onto his knees. At least he was wearing knee pads. It didn’t take all that long for Alex to tip over the edge.

‘So, the pants do it for you, huh?’ Michael asked as they valiantly tried to make themselves look presentable. Especially Alex, Michael had a reason to look a little sweat and messy, Alex didn’t.

‘The whole thing does it for me. Don’t even ask why because I don’t know.’ Alex said, attempting to fix his hair with his phone’s camera as his guide. ‘Well, except for the competence thing, I know about that.’

‘Competence?’ Michael said with an audible smile. ‘Yeah, for me it is intelligence.’ Alex looked at him over his shoulder.

‘Ah, so I should talk science to you, huh?’ He gave up on fixing his hair any further. ‘Are you gonna get all hot and bothered if I tell you that Jupiter’s Great Red Spot is almost one and a half earths wide?’ Alex stepped closer. ‘Or that Saturn has the best ring system because they’re mostly made of water ice, other planets have rings too, but we can’t see them as easily because they’re mostly dust?’

‘Don’t tease me like that.’ Michael said with a grin, but Alex could see genuine appreciation under it.

‘Mercury and Venus have no moons.’

‘ _Stop_ , you little shit.’ Alex grinned as he unlocked the door of the tack room and peeked around the corner. The hall was deserted.

‘Mars has the largest mountain in our solar system, it’s twice as tall as Mount Everest.’

‘Why do you even know these things?’

‘I may have googled “space facts that make you sound smart”.’ Alex said with a shrug. It made Michael laugh so hard a PPO actually came around the corner to check on his wellbeing.

Alex didn’t mean to, but he froze when Michael put a hand on his shoulder as they said goodbye outside of the stables, a car ready and waiting for Michael. Michael pulled his hand back like he’d been burned.

‘Sorry.’ Alex said, his voice coming out much too sharp and quick.

‘No, uh. It’s fine.’ Michael’s eyes darted over Alex’s shoulder. ‘You’re right there are cameras around. I should go. I have a plane to catch.’ His smile was tight and Alex felt the guilt wash over him like a warm, oppressive wave.

‘We’ll text, yeah?’ Alex offered, trying to make sure they didn’t leave on a sour note. Today had been so nice.

‘Yes.’ Michael said. Yasir cleared his throat. A clear message. ‘Have a safe trip back, Alex.’

‘You too.’ The door closing left Alex feeling cold. ‘ _Fuck_.’ Alex said under his breath, but with feeling. He could feel Oliver at his shoulder.

‘So, that went well.’

‘Shut up.’ Alex said, turning around and kicking at a loose bit of grass. ‘Why do I always manage to fuck stuff up?’ Oliver sighed as he smiled. He looked a little sad. Great.

‘You don’t _always_ fuck shit up.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘You’re careful, and there’s nothing wrong with that. If he doesn’t understand that, he is either naïve of stupid, and from what I’ve heard he’s neither, so he will understand.’ Alex started heading in the direction of their car.

‘When the hell did you get so wise?’

‘I’ve been on this earth a little longer than you have padawan.’ Alex rolled his eyes at Oliver’s grin. ‘I’m serious though: Don’t be so hard on yourself.’

‘I’m good at that though.’ Alex said with a wry grin.

‘Yeah, I know.’ Oliver snorted. ‘C’mon His American Highness, time to go back to DC.’

As Alex sat in the plane on the runway, he pulled out his phone. He could feel eyes on him all over the plane. He wasn’t on a private flight this time, which was good because it was less than an hour, but he did hate the way people would stare. Like the security sitting next to Alex gave them the right to ogle him like he was an attraction.

**I understand now how animals in a zoo must feel.**

He didn’t let himself hesitate before sending the text. He forced himself not to stare at his phone as he waited for a reply. He really, really hoped Michael would reply.

**What, has someone finally gotten enough of your smart mouth and locked you up? I’d like to see that.**

**Kinky.**

Alex replied before shutting off his phone and putting his seatbelt on. He could feel himself smiling. He hadn’t fucked everything up completely. Oliver leaned over.

‘Good?’

‘Yeah, we’re good.’ Oliver nudged him with his shoulder.

‘See, I told y-‘

‘I’m gonna have you fired if you finish that sentence.’ Oliver laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d heard all day. Which, yeah alright, Alex would _never_ get rid of Oliver. While Alex spend his time in the White House, Oliver was the only one he trusted to keep his secrets a secret. Sure, NDAs were a thing, but so were anonymous tips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I will be back on Friday. 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooh! I'm this close to finishing chapter 16 (I'm trying to stay ahead, but this schedule might catch up with me at some point XD) 
> 
> As for this chapter, the lads go to Paris!   
> Thank you so much for all of your support!

**Subject: Paris**

**His Royal Highness Prince blah, blah, of something, something.**

**Your title is a pain in the ass.**

**Are you going to that fund-raiser in Paris this weekend? Please tell me you are? My dad is making me go alone, I don’t want to go alone.**

**Alex, First Son of the land you _wish_ you still owned**

Michael found himself blinking blearily at the email that Alex had send at 2am. Michael had actually slept longer than three hours in a row last night and he was almost a little proud of himself. How sad. He answered the email from his bed, unsure if he’d get a quick reply or not.

**Subject: Re: Paris**

**Alex, First Son of the land we are _glad_ we got rid of,**

**First of all, I could have you thrown in the Tower of London for botching my title like that.**

**Second, no, I am not going to Paris, I will be in Germany to have men in lederhosen tell me about sustainable energy. You will have to find someone else to accost in a tack room**

**His Royal Highness Prince Michael of Wales (see, it is not that hard)**

Alex had been same old Alex over text and now clearly email, but something had shifted. He seemed more on guard. Not any less flirtatious, no he wasn’t more on guard about that stuff, but any time Michael asked about family or about what he was up to in the White House all the time, Alex would get… shifty.

Now, Michael didn’t want to judge (didn’t mean he wasn’t judging just a little), but Alex _was_ working for his father, even though he claimed he didn’t agree with the man’s policies and believes. Which was perfectly clear in some areas, his position on LGBTQ+ rights for example, since Alex was gay.

He had actually given off the vibe he was scared of his dad.

Michael just didn’t quite see why Alex hadn’t removed himself from that situation yet. Michael didn’t have a choice, he was born into this world and he wouldn’t escape it until he died, but Alex had a degree, he was smart as a whip, plenty of tech companies all over the world would love to hire him, and yet he was still where he was.

Michael was getting dressed when his phone dinged with an email notification.

**Subject: Re: Paris**

**His Royal Pain in my Ass,**

**First of all, I know the Tower of London hasn’t been used as a prison since 1952 when the Kray twins were held there for a few days (and no, I didn’t have to google that).**

**Second of all, there is definitely _something_ that’s _hard_.**

**Thirdly, please come to Paris. Germany is boring!**

**Also, I know from a very reliable source (you) that you didn’t mind being “accosted” at all. I remember God being mentioned a lot, and my name and “please keep doing that thing with your tongue”. I can’t do that if I’m in Paris and you’re not.**

**So, we’ll meet in Paris?**

**Alex, who really doesn’t want to be alone in Paris**

Michael groaned, he was really doing this, wasn’t he. Why? Why did he have to meet the _one_ guy with the smile as sharp as his mind, the eyes as warm as his soul and a mouth talented in so many more ways than Michael had ever imagined possible? Was this some cruel test set up by his ancestors?

If it was, he’d failed spectacularly.

**Subject: Re: Paris**

**Alex, First Son of sending me Inappropriate emails at the arse-crack of dawn,**

**Fine, I will try to get out of Germany.**

**I hate you**

**His Sexually Frustrated Highness, Michael.**

He finished getting dressed and went to find Yasir. It wasn’t that difficult, Yasir found him.

‘Ah, I was looking for you. Is there any possible way I could get out of going to Germany this weekend and go to Paris instead?’ Michael asked, doing his utmost best not to show anything on his face.

Yasir sighed.

‘I’ll take a look.’

Michael got out of Germany. He was lucky that Jesse Manes kicked up a fuss that effectively distracted everyone enough that no one seemed to notice or care that Michael left to Paris for a weekend.

They met up in a tiny café where they served wine and they were the only customers. They proceeded to get tipsy before letting their combined security guide them back to the hotel they were both staying in. And, well, the security didn’t need to know they ended up ducking into Michael’s room together.

They were barely inside the door when Alex dropped to his knees and started pulling on Michael’s belt. God dammit.

That first night, Alex ducked back to his own room.

Michael wouldn’t pretend he wasn’t a little miffed about that. Almost no one knew Michael was even in Paris. The only security that was actually close by were Yasir and Oliver, and he was pretty sure they knew. There was no reason that they couldn’t sleep in the same bed and have lazy, warm morning sex.

No reason other than Alex’s apparent unwillingness.

Michael wanted to ask, but didn’t. Wine made him blab things he shouldn’t, so he bit his tongue and watched Alex leave. He watched the clock on his bedside table flip from 1am, to 2am, to 3am. He finally managed to get some sleep somewhere after the clock hit 3:30am. He was awake at 6, feeling antsy and jittery. So he snuck out and headed to the gym.

Well, snuck out was really not all that accurate, because there was a PPO on his tail almost immediately. Ralph, to be exact.

Maybe it was good that Alex hadn’t slept over. What if a PPO came in because there was an emergency? What if Secret Service tried to find Alex in his own room and ended up starting a full scale search? Maybe Alex was just being rational. Michael still didn’t like it.

He was exhausted by the time he let himself get off the treadmill. He needed to sleep. If he could just sleep through _one_ night. One night, that was all he was asking for. One normal night.

When Alex arrived down for breakfast, he still looked a little sleep rumpled, the dark circles under his eyes were more defined today than they’d been yesterday. Seemed like Michael wasn’t the only one to have a bad night.

Breakfast was a quiet affair.

‘Eifel tower?’ Alex asked with a bright, pleading grin in the direction of Oliver after they’d stepped out of their hotel. They seemed close, Michael had noticed it from the start. Michael and Yasir were pretty familiar with each other, he might even call them friends, but there was a depth to Alex’s bond with Oliver that he didn’t quite understand.

He wanted to ask, but he didn’t.

‘No.’ Oliver said, firm and final. Alex pouted, but didn’t ask again. He had his sunglasses pushed up into his hair, white button up and dark jeans, the silver chain around his neck peeking out when he moved. He looked like a vision.

‘Louvre?’ Michael offered and Yasir sighed, exchanging a glance with Oliver.

‘Almost as bad, but we could manage that.’ Yasir said, taking his phone from his pocket. ‘I know the guy in charge of their security, I’ll give him a call.’ 

Yasir managed to make everything happen within thirty minutes, Michael didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was kind of proud of that. They were allowed in, with their own security. Oliver and Yasir only really got tense when they insisted on going to see the Mona Lisa. The room was incredibly busy and they couldn’t keep an eye on everyone, but Alex was hellbent on seeing the painting, so they slowly made their way to the front so they could see it.

‘It’s tiny.’ Alex said, tilting his head with mild disappointment. ‘I mean, I knew it was small, but it’s _tiny_.’

‘It’s a masterwork.’

‘I’m not saying it’s _bad_ , I’m just saying that he could have used a bigger canvas or something.’ Alex shrugged, throwing one final look at the painting before turning away and sliding between a group of tourists to make his way out of the room again.

‘So, unimpressed by Clair de Lune, unimpressed by the Mona Lisa, what _does_ impress you?’ Michael asked, folding his hands behind his back as they headed into a much quieter exposition. Alex hummed, titling his head.

‘The Night Watch.’ He turned to Michael with a smirk. ‘The Vladimir Tiara.’ Michael huffed out a laugh.

‘I didn’t pick you for a pearl kind of guy.’ He said, earning a grin.

‘I admire it, doesn’t mean I want to wear it.’ He made a face. ‘Although… do you think your mother would let me?’

‘Absolutely not.’ Michael said with a grin. ‘Isobel had to beg for months before mom agreed to let her wear it at her wedding.’

‘Shame.’ Alex nodded for a second before adding: ‘Starry Night.’

‘I’ve never seen it in person.’ Alex turned to him with wide eyes.

‘Oh, you have to come to New York sometime to see it. It is incredible.’ He gushed.

‘Van Gogh, huh?’

‘Oh yeah. My favourite painter of all time.’

‘That wasn’t on your fact sheet.’ Michael said as they meandered into the next room.

‘Yeah, I know.’

‘I’d love to come see Starry Night. It’s in the Museum of Modern Art, right?’ Michael asked and Alex nodded. ‘Just tell me one thing: Why is it your favourite painting?’ Alex considered this for a second.

‘I love that it really gives us a peek into Van Gogh’s brain. A peek into how he saw the world, it’s not hyper realistic, but I _wish_ I could see the world like that, see the beauty of a night sky like that. I wish more people saw the world like that, the beauty in simplicity.’ Oh god dammit.

‘That’s nice.’ Michael managed. Alex looked at him a little funny, but he seemed to shrug it off.

They didn’t spend too long in the Louvre, they didn’t want to give social media the chance to spread where they were too much. There were a few paparazzi outside which had Michael clench his jaw. Luckily their security was trained very well, and the combined force of the PPO’s and the Secret Service was enough to make them leave pretty quickly.

They ended up meandering through several ridiculously expensive stores, the salespeople stumbling over themselves when they realized who were in their store. Alex seemed to find it somewhat amusing. When they ended up back in their hotel after dinner, Alex smirked and held his phone out to Michael.

FSOTUS AND PRINCE MICHAEL OUT IN PARIS

The article contained several pictures of them out and about, looking like friends out having a fun time. Michael especially liked the one picture of their first day, them together in the café. Michael was smiling, glass of red wine in his hand as Alex had his head tipped back in a laugh. They looked comfortable and Michael wanted to frame that picture and tattoo the feeling of it on his heart.

‘Liz send it to me.’ Alex said, kicking his shoes off. ‘Next time, she wants to come with us. She’s pretty angry I didn’t invite her.’ Michael huffed out a laugh.

‘So she’s mad and sends you an article about our time in Paris?’ Alex laughed, warm and bright and Michael was in way over his head.

‘I think she was telling me: Look at how much fun you’re having _without me_.’ Alex shrugged. ‘But I’ve learned not to question Liz too much.’

‘You have known each other long?’ Michael asked, shrugging off his jacket and toeing his shoes off.

‘Since fourteen, that’s when she started dating Kyle, that’s how we met. They weren’t together for very long, she’s too good for him,’ Alex said with a quick grin. ‘but we all stayed friends.’

‘That’s nice. I’d like to meet her, properly, sometimes.’

‘Well, if you come to New York to go to the MOMA with me, we could invite her along.’ Alex grinned, he flopped down on the bed. ‘Now, do you want to talk more, or do you want to do something else?’ Michael grinned, locked Alex’s phone and put it down on the bedside table before crawling onto the bed and hovering over Alex.

‘I’ve been wanting to take that shirt off you all day.’

‘Well, you better get on it.’ Alex said, folding his hands behind his head and nodding down at the buttons of his shirt with a smirk.

Michael wasn’t about to back down from this challenge. He leaned forward, nudging Alex’s head to the side with his nose to get access to his neck. He brushed his lips along Alex’s neck, teasingly working his way down to Alex’s collarbone. He scraped his teeth over that spot that always made Alex squirm.

Sure enough, Alex whined and squirmed.

‘You’re going to be the death of me.’ Alex whispered at the ceiling. Michael smiled against his skin as he popped the first button.

‘At least you’ll die happy.’ Michael offered, looking up at him through his lashes.

Alex cursed and groaned and moaned and Michael soaked up the noises and the warmth, begging any God he could think off that they would carry him through the night.

When they were both sated and catching their breath on the bed next to each other, Michael could feel the exact moment where Alex was going to get up and put his clothes back on to head back to his own room.

However, Alex breathed in again and stayed put. He stayed put for another breath and another and another. Michael was just allowing himself to have hope that maybe he wouldn’t go when he sighed and pushed himself upright. Michael looked away.

As much as he loved Alex’s back, he hated that seeing it usually meant Alex was about to leave. He stared at the ceiling waiting for that little intake of breath (like he was steeling himself) before he announced he should go.

It didn’t come.

There was the sound of feet tap-tap-tapping around the room, into the bathroom, the sound of the sink, footsteps coming back his way.

He finally let himself look over at Alex who was now sitting on the edge of the bed with his boxers on. He had his phone in his hand, but didn’t seem to be doing anything with it. He put the phone on the bedside table and stood up, only to pull back the covers and slip under them.

‘Your bed is more comfortable than mine, I’m going to take a nap here.’ Alex said, studiously avoiding looking at Michael for longer than a glance.

‘Our rooms are identical.’ Michael said with a frown. Alex sighed and gave him a pointed look.

‘Do you want me to sleep here for a bit, or not?’ Alex asked. ‘Because I _can_ leave, if you want me to.’ He curled up on his side, looking at Michael expectantly. ‘I know you haven’t slept well and neither have I, maybe this helps. Stop overthinking it and just get your ass ready for bed Michael.’

‘Right.’ Michael shuffled around, picking out a pair of clean boxers and heading over to the bathroom. Don’t overthink it. Yeah, that was easier said than done. They hadn’t had many of these scenarios, not at all, but through their texts and emails, Michael thought it was pretty clear that this was supposed to be just a friends with benefits kind of thing, right? This whole thing made his head hurt. His toothpaste had been moved, so Michael deducted that Alex must have done a good old finger brush. Why did that make him smile?

When he deemed himself ready for bed, he told himself (again) not to overthink it, it was just one night. It didn’t mean anything.

The stupid thing was, it totally meant something. Even if it didn’t mean anything to Alex, it meant something to Michael and his treacherous heart. He slept through the night. His _phone_ woke him up at 8:30 when Yasir texted him to get out of bed. Alex was curled up on his side, his soft brown hair a mess on the pillow, face soft and warm. Relaxed.

He must have sensed Michael was awake, because he mumbled something.

‘What was that?’ Michael asked softly.

‘You’re staring at me.’ Alex said a little louder, eyes still closed. ‘Why don’t you do something useful, Your Highness? I want croissants.’ His voice was low and sleep-rough and it send a chill down Michael’s spine.

‘So demanding.’ He went for slightly annoyed, instead it came out fond. Alex smiled, eyes still closed. Michael resisted the urge to brush his fingers against Alex’s cheek.

‘You love it.’

‘I like your smart mouth enough for other purposes, that the only reason I haven’t had you thrown in the dungeons.’ Alex made a little huffing noise, like he didn’t believe Michael for a second.

Michael convinced Yasir to let them have breakfast in Michael’s room (apparently Alex had texted Oliver last night to let him know where he was, so there was no panic among the Secret Service). They had buttery, slightly warm croissants as Alex requested Michael read to him from the copy of Le Monde, in French.

It was too comfortable to be around Alex like this, no cameras, no sex, just them. He kissed Alex goodbye before letting him slip from the room. Oliver cast his eyes to the heavens and followed Alex with a sigh. Yasir gave him a _look_. One that said: He’s staying over now?

He flew back to London, while Alex flew back over the ocean to DC, and if Michael looked up the article Liz had send Alex and saved the picture he liked so much, that was nobody’s business but his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday will bring chapter twelve! Jeez, I can't believe we're this far already. I still have no idea how long this is going to get. 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week done!   
> Now, as for next week, I have to see how my writing goes before Wednesday, otherwise I might need to drop down to two chapters a week (probably Wednesday, Sunday?). Life has been going, writing has been somewhat slow. I'm still four chapters ahead, but yeah. I'm gonna see what I can do.

‘Good God, Alex.’ Liz said over the phone as Alex walked into the residence. He nodded at the security guard on the corner. ‘You’re half-way in love with him.’

‘ _Liz_ ,’ he whined. ‘I’m not.’ That was only a little bit of a lie.

‘You _slept_ _over_.’

‘I was _exhausted_.’

‘I don’t give a damn, you never sleep over.’

‘That’s because my father is always lurking around the corner.’ Alex sighed, pushing his door open and heading towards his desk. He pressed his phone between his shoulder and his ear as he opened his laptop. ‘I was in _Paris_ , this was about as safe as it got.’

‘I still don’t believe you’re not in love with him.’ She said, he could hear her shrug. ‘And I also still can’t believe you didn’t take me to Paris with you.’ Alex sighed.

‘Liz, if you just called me to complain the whole time I’m going to lose my shit.’ Alex entered his password as the laptop booted up.

The main advantage of having studied computer sciences was that Alex knew perfectly well how to protect himself from getting hacked/ having others get into files he didn’t want them to get into. Especially these particular files.

‘I didn’t.’ Liz assured him. ‘I wanted to ask about the thing you’ve been working on: How’s that going? Still planning for disaster?’

‘I’m always planning for disaster, you know that.’ Alex said while scrolling through the first few documents. ‘It’s going pretty well, I don’t think anyone is paying attention to me.’

‘Good, if you ever need help, hit me up.’

‘I will do that.’ Alex said with a smile. ‘Speaking of, Michael and I want to go to the MOMA at some point, you should come with us.’

‘Oh fun, I get to be the third wheel on a date with you and your prince.’ Alex rolled his eyes.

‘It’s not a date. He’s never seen Starry Night in real life, I can’t let that stand.’

‘Keep telling yourself that Alex.’

‘I will.’

‘ _Okay_ , bye asshole.’

‘Bye Liz.’

Alex had a drawer of stuff in his desk that no one was supposed to know about. Personal shit. The drawer even had a lock, but his dad had a key, so Alex wasn’t stupid enough to keep anything actually incriminating/ dangerous in there.

Still, it was a shock to find his dad standing in his room with the copy of Le Monde in his hands. Alex’s laptop was open while Alex was sure that he hadn’t left it like that before he went on a run. The cold feeling in his chest overwhelmed the heat from his run.

‘Dad?’ Alex asked, his father looked up, cold and calculating.

‘What’s this?’ He asked, waving the paper at Alex. Alex made sure to frown, confused.

‘A copy of Le Monde?’ He could almost feel his father thinking. ‘I brought it back from Paris, felt like it would be a fun souvenir. I can also practice my French a little with it.’ He shrugged, too tight, but a good effort.

His dad hummed, a low sound that gave Alex chills.

‘I’m heading to Brussels for that summit. When I get back I want you to have the report about the voter spread in the South done.’ He said, flopping the paper down on Alex’s desk. Alex nodded once.

‘Okay.’ His father walked towards him, towards the door.

‘Take a shower, you smell.’ His father said before leaving the room after brushing past him.

Alex stood there for a second as the door closed behind him, just breathing. Trying to get rid of the cold creeping up his back, the squeezing feeling in his lungs. It was fine. Everything was fine. He didn’t know anything, he couldn’t know everything. If he suspected anything of what was really going on, he wouldn’t have been so calm. He would have said something threatening, this was just regular old dad.

Breathe.

**Subject: New York**

**Hey,**

**Look, about that trip to New York we talked about: your birthday is in, like, three weeks. Maybe you can come to New York a few days before that? We can do the MOMA, catch up, maybe see a Broadway show, I can kiss your stupid face. It’ll be great. Then we can fly to the UK and celebrate some more? Isobel invited me to your party (I’m bringing Liz as my plus one), it could be fun? Maybe? Let me know.**

**Alex.**

It had been three weeks since they’d seen each other. Three weeks of Alex’s father keeping a closer eye on him than before. Three weeks of Alex slaving over polling numbers and legislation and other shit Alex _was not_ qualified for, but his father didn’t care.

Michael had mentioned Snapchat, and while Alex had one of those, Maria and Liz made him get the app ages ago, Alex was terrified of the idea of having actual pictures on his phone of Michael. Something about Snapchat felt unsafe. What if they accidentally put something private on their public stories? He kept the stuff they texted and emailed, but behind the safety of his numerous (probably, too many) firewalls. His phone was password protected, but not like his computer was, so Alex deleted his history religiously every day after backing his stuff up to his computer.

It was paranoia at its finest, but it was better to be safe than sorry, and better to be paranoid than dead.

**Subject: Re: New York**

**Dearest Alex,**

**These greetings keep getting worse. It is pretty clear you are not a romantic. I suppose I will just have to be romantic for the both of us.**

**It pains me to say it, but I think that if I try to leave the country right before my birthday, the people here will have a heart attack (Isobel and Yasir included). We can hold on to that trip for another time, yes? Isn’t Liz’s birthday a few weeks after mine? She could invite me? That would give me an excuse.**

**I know Isobel invited you, she has been incredibly smug about it. I am glad though. Maybe you and Liz can come to London a few days early?**

**Michael.**

Alex studiously ignored the flip of his stomach at the idea of being in the same city as Michael for a few _days_ instead of a few hours. They’d be on a different continent than his father, a whole _ocean_ between them. Sure, they would still need to be careful, especially around Michael’s birthday the paparazzi would want to get a picture of him doing something stupid, but they’d be-

Together.

As in, in the same place, not _together_ together. They weren’t actually dating, they were just… sleeping with each other and talking for hours and learning about each other and the things they loved and hated and about their families and their hopes and dreams and _holy shit they were dating._

**Subject: Re: New York**

**Listen up you little shit,**

**Romantic? You? You’re the one that keeps sending me these fucking thirst traps (I _know_ what you were doing with that fucking pic of you in those riding pants) through text and wanted to do sexy things over _snapchat_. You’re not fooling me you horny little fucker. **

**Also, that sounds like it could be fun. Just don’t make me drink that horrific stuff you call tea. Why the fuck would anyone put milk in their tea? I will check in with Harvey and I’ll let you know when we arrive.**

**Alex.**

Alex was not feeling great. He was tired beyond belief, he’d planned on going to London well rested. So he could spend a lot of time awake with Michael, but for the last three days, his dad had been hounding him with request after request, keeping Alex up until two- three in the morning, working. There was a difference between being sleepless but free to do whatever you wanted, and not being able to go to sleep because you had to finish something.

The second he’d met Liz at JFK she frowned at him, concern flashing over her face.

‘Shit Alex, you look like you haven’t slept in a week.’

‘Hi Liz,’ Alex mumbled. ‘Good to see you too. I’m fine, how are you?’ Liz narrowed her eyes at him.

‘You sure as hell don’t look fine.’ She glared at Oliver like it was his fault that Alex hadn’t slept.

‘My father had me busy, I’ll sleep on the plane.’ Liz gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him.

Alex was incredibly grateful that they had a small private plane to take them across the ocean. At least no one would see his pitiful attempt at sleeping as they flew to Heathrow. As they taxied over the runway, on UK soil, Alex felt like crawling out of the window, into the fresh air.

It was only three in the afternoon and the car waiting for them was arranged by Michael. Alex vaguely recognized the driver.

Liz, being the amazing person she was, babbled away with the driver and Oliver in the front seat about the weather and how it had been so long since she’d been here, and “oh, what is that statue?”. If Alex hadn’t been so one hundred percent gay, he’d have kissed her. The driver brought them to Kensington without asking any questions. Michael said that it was pretty normal for the people closest to them (like his _best friend_ ) to stay there, it wasn’t like they were cramped for space or anything. Liz was looking around with wide eyes, but all Alex wanted was to see Michael.

He just wanted to see his stupid face, obviously. He wasn’t sure why he felt like crying.

Yasir met them after they’d been lead into Kensington and he smiled politely at Alex. Alex tried to grin at him, but he didn’t think he succeeded very well.

‘Mister Manes, welcome back. Miss Ortecho, welcome.’ Yasir said. ‘Amelia will show you to your rooms,’ Yasir said to Liz who grinned brightly. ‘and you will come with me.’ Alex nodded, throwing Liz a sheepish smile. She just smirked and waved at him.

He followed Yasir through the halls. He’d never actually been to Michael’s rooms, but he was pretty sure that’s where he was heading. The halls seemed vaguely familiar as he followed Yasir, who walked around like he wasn’t bringing the FSOTUS to the rooms of the Prince of Wales for a clandestine meeting.

Alex was in that weird state where he was exhausted, but also wound up from the plane journey. He felt like his body was trying to vibrate from nerves/transatlantic bullshit, but it was too tired to really get there. He was a little dizzy too.

He just wanted to see Michael.

‘Here you are, sir. You will be expected for dinner in three hours.’ Alex checked his watch as Yasir stopped in front of a set of double doors. It was 4pm.

‘Thank you, Yasir.’ Alex managed a proper smile, and Yasir just nodded at the door. Alex threw a final look at Oliver, who was already turning to shake Yasir’s hand before he slipped inside the room.

The rooms were undoubtedly beautiful, but Alex couldn’t focus on anything beyond the guy standing in the middle of what seemed to be some kind of living room. God dammit.

‘Hey.’ Alex said instead of _fuck I missed you_.

‘Hello.’ Michael said, smirk spreading over his face. Alex could feel himself relax. He didn’t want to rush forward like a girl in a romance movie, but he did kind of hurry around the couch to get to Michael. The stupid swoop in his stomach as Michael cupped his face and kissed him was unnecessary, really.

Alex could feel himself sway as he leaned into Michael, digging one hand into his hair. He wanted this, he wanted him, but shit he was suddenly so _tired_.

Michael pulled back a little. He watched Alex for a few seconds with those sharp, whiskey coloured eyes.

‘You look like you haven’t slept in a week.’ Alex raised his eyebrows.

‘Wow, thanks buddy.’ Michael rolled his eyes.

‘Don’t be dramatic.’ He said, grabbing Alex’s hand and dragging him along to another room. Bedroom. ‘I am just concerned.’ He said when he released Alex’s hand.

Alex managed to stop the “why?” on the tip of his tongue from slipping out. He started peeling off his jacket and toed of his shoes. Michael didn’t get with the program.

‘C’mon Your Highness-‘

‘No.’ Michael said with a soft laugh. ‘I am not having sex with you right now. What if you fall asleep? That would be too big of a blow to my ego. You’re going to take a nap first.’ Alex pulled his most unimpressed look.

‘A nap?’ He asked with disbelieve colouring his voice. ‘I am not five years old, Michael.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with taking a nap. You’ll be here for three days, there will be plenty of time for activities once you’ve _slept_.’ Alex narrowed his eyes at Michael. ‘Alex, just lay down for an hour. It’ll make me feel better.’ Alex was still hesitating. This felt too… personal. Too close. ‘If you go to sleep I’ll reward you later.’ Michael said, sliding his hand down Alex’s chest suggestively.

Alex sighed.

‘Fine.’ Michael grinned, self-satisfied and Alex rolled his eyes. He crawled into Michael’s bed, not even bothering to pretend he was going to his own room. He’d sleep for an hour, they’d have time to do some fun stuff before they needed to go have dinner. So Alex turned his back to Michael, still a little annoyed he insisted on this (he wasn’t _that_ tired), and snuggled into the pillows. Shit this was like sleeping on clouds.

He closed his eyes. Just for a little bit.

He woke up slowly and for a second he felt so disoriented he got a little dizzy. Where the fuck? His bed was the wrong way around, sideways, how the hell-

Right. He wasn’t in the White House. He wasn’t even in the US, he was in London. In Michael’s bed. Right.

His stomach rumbled for the first time in what felt like days. He looked around, the other side of the bed looked slept in, but was empty. Huh. What time was it even? Alex turned to the bedside table and found his phone in the charger. He didn’t remember doing that. Had he been drunk?

No, he didn’t feel hungover. He felt good actually, better than he’d felt in at least a week.

When he checked his phone he ended up doing a double take. Hold the fuck up. 8am

_8am?_

He had to sit there for a second to try and determine if he lost time somewhere or if he’d actually slept for about sixteen hours.

‘Good morning.’ Michael came meandering into the room, already fully dressed and ready.

‘Uh, what the fuck?’ Alex asked, not his most eloquent opening ever. ‘Did I sleep this whole time?’ Michael checked his watch.

‘Yes, about sixteen hours. I debated waking you up for dinner, but you looked so tired, I figured I’d let you sleep.’ Alex could feel his eyebrows creep towards his hairline. He rubbed his hands over his face. _Sixteen_ hours. Holy shit.

‘Oh fuck, Liz is going to kill me.’ Alex said with the sudden realization he’d left her alone to have dinner with a bunch of royals she barely knew.

‘Liz was fine, she and Max get along great actually, it’s almost a little disturbing.’ Michael said, making a face. Alex crawled from the bed, still in his clothes from yesterday.

‘That is disturbing.’ Alex agreed. ‘Oh, and happy birthday.’ Alex said with a smile. ‘I’d kiss you but I’m gross.’ He said, plucking at his shirt and running a hand through his hair. It wasn’t like he cared about Michael seeing him messy and very much not together, he just felt disgusting.

‘Thank you. You should take a shower, then you can kiss me.’ Michael said, smirk firmly on his face, trailing his eyes over Alex slowly.

‘ _Okay_.’ Alex said, putting his hand against the side of Michael’s face and pushing him away. ‘I’m not into the sleezy act.’

‘Who says it is an act?’ Michael asked, still grinning. Alex made a face at him.

‘Oh please, you are a giant softy. Don’t even pretend with me.’ Alex waved at him. Michael’s expression turned a little more serious.

‘Okay.’ He checked his watch again. ‘Now can you please go and get ready? Oliver is dropping off some clothes for you. I’m hungry.’ Alex flinched.

‘ _Oliver_ is getting me clothes? Can you make sure it’s not horrible? He has about as much fashion sense as… well, as something that has zero fashion sense.’ Michael laughed.

‘Yes, I’ll make sure he doesn’t try to dress you up in pink and red.’

‘Thank you.’ Michael pointed him in the direction of the bathroom. Alex studiously ignored how comfortable this felt. Bickering early in the morning, waking up in Michael’s bed. This wasn’t normal, he shouldn’t let himself get used to this.

He vowed to sleep in his own room tonight. No more funny business. Most people in this palace didn’t know about them and one night could be explained away, but two? No. Alex needed to get a hold of himself. No more sleepovers.

Alex shrugged off his clothes and stepped under the ridiculously luxurious shower.

He was just going to ignore this was the best he slept in months, maybe longer. It didn’t mean anything. It _couldn’t_ mean anything. It didn’t mean anything to Michael. He was a prince. Alex’s dad would kill him. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t get attached to the idea of this because when this all fell apart, it would kill him. He needed to keep his distance, but hadn’t he fucked that up weeks ago? Months? Hadn’t he fucked that up the moment he’d told Michael things about himself, the moment he’d kissed him in the Red Room?

Fuck, why couldn’t he do simple?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Chapter 13 on Wednesday.
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, whatever was stopping me from writing like a bat out of hell before, it's gone now. I've just finished chapter 20. I guess we'll get to stay on 3 chapters a week anyways! Yay! Also, I wrote THE most romantic shit ever these past few days sooo, prepare for some truly tooth-rotting sweetness ahead. 
> 
> I have no idea what happens in this chapter, I am too wrapped up in what I'm writing right now. I almost forgot it was a posting day.

Seeing Alex sleeping in his bed was a bit like a slap in the face. Like the thought of “oh fuck I want to keep him forever” just smacked him in the head. Alex looked soft and warm and Michael just wanted to curl up next to him and never leave.

It was all a little terrifying, but something about it felt so _right_ , he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

He probably should have been focussing on the conversation going on at breakfast. His mother wasn’t there, she had other business to attend, apparently it didn’t matter that it was now officially Michael’s birthday. Twenty one. Allowed to drink, even in the US.

‘Michael?’

‘Huh?’ Isobel pressed her lips together in an attempt not to smile.

‘Have you been listening at all?’ He could see Alex across the table biting his lip to stop himself from laughing. Liz, next to him, was pointedly looking at her plate.

‘Not really. Sorry sis.’ He said, earning a disapproving sigh from Max. Alex looked much, much better than he had yesterday. He’d actually been a little concerned when he first saw him walk into his rooms at Kensington. The circles under his eyes had been dark and he’d looked pale and on the verge of cracking. He’d never really seen Alex like that before.

He’d seen Alex tired and indignant and angry and grinning and laughing and blissed out, but he had never seen Alex that close to tears, exhausted, _sad_.

It made Michael want to wrap him up in a blanket and run his fingers through his hair. He’d done the first, held back on the second.

After his shower, Alex pointedly ignored everything that happened the day before. He waved away any question Michael asked as to if he was okay, what happened or why he was so tired he’d slept for sixteen hours straight. He just said he’d been busy, that was it.

And, it wasn’t like they were actually together. Sure, they talked at every single opportunity they got, Michael hadn’t even _looked_ at anyone else since he’d first kissed Alex and all he could do was think about him and his laugh and his body- _but_ , they were _not_ together. They were just… long distance friends with benefits that took every possible opportunity to be in the same country? And that wasn’t just Michael, Alex was the one to bring up Michael coming to New York, he was the one to convince Michael to come to Paris. So there had to be _something_ there.

Why couldn’t things be simple?

A foot collided with his shin and his eyes snapped over to Isobel, who looked at him pointedly. He hadn’t heard what was said, again. He looked at Alex. Who tipped his head to the side just a little and then nodded minutely.

‘Yes.’ Michael said, not nearly as hesitant as he felt. ‘I agree.’

‘Good.’ Max said. ‘We’ll bring Alex along to the rugby thing this morning while Isobel and Liz go shopping.’ Michael needed a second to process what was being said. Oh, right, the rugby thing. The charity rugby thing organized for Michael’s birthday. He was bringing Alex along now. Oh boy.

‘You didn’t mention rugby involved these short shorts.’ Alex hissed at him when they headed out towards the field. Alex decidedly refused to wear the shorts, that cut off at mid-thigh. Instead, he was wearing thin, black sweatpants that clung to his legs and were _seriously_ distracting.

‘I didn’t know you were going to be a baby about it.’ Michael said, rolling his eyes.

‘I’m not “being a baby about it”,’ Alex said with a horrible impression of Michael’s accent. ‘I’m trying not to get distracted by your legs.’ He hissed. ‘I thought the riding pants were bad.’ He said, more to himself than to Michael as he rubbed his hands over his face. Michael could feel himself grin.

‘We will have to go to the proper party tonight, but after that, you can show me just how much you love my legs.’ Alex looked over at him stopping right before they exited the tunnel.

‘Hm, if I remember correctly, you still owe me for last night.’ Alex tilted his head and then walked off with a smirk. Michael couldn’t stop the inelegant snort from escaping him before he followed Alex out onto the field.

Michael wasn’t the best at rugby, polo had always been his sport. Even cricket was more his sport than rugby was, but Max liked rugby the most and so Michael had decided he could do something nice for his brother, just this once. So Max showed off, a lot, and Michael did fine.

It was all fun and games. No one was really playing hard, but the crowd was into it and there were points scored on both sides. They didn’t exactly obey the normal rules and when there was about ten minutes left and they were huddled together taking a small break, Michael turned to Alex, who’d been standing on the side-lines until now.

‘So, what do you say, Alex Manes. Up for a game of rugby?’ Alex tilted his head at the clear challenge in Michael’s voice.

‘Sure,’ Alex said, sauntering onto the field. The crowd had quieted down and seemed to be trying to listen in. ‘It’s basically American Football, right?’ Michael could actually hear horrified gasps from the crowd and the players behind him.

‘You know, that hurts my feelings.’ Michael said, and Alex cast his eyes towards the sky as he handed off his jacket to Oliver, who rolled his eyes at their antics.

The most ridiculous part about the whole thing was that Alex was _good_. He was fast, quick, able to evade tackles and he seemed to have a good enough understanding of the tactics to actually be helpful. Michael was impressed. When Alex actually managed to score, Michael wanted to kiss him. The grin on his face as his (incredibly posh) teammates crowded around him to congratulate him made Michael’s stomach flip.

Max looked at him, confused, eyes narrowed and Michael immediately looked away.

‘Beginners luck.’ He said as Alex approached.

‘Keep telling yourself that.’ He said as he tossed the ball at Michael, it thumped against Michael’s chest. His hair was all messed up and his cheeks were a little red, his breathing had sped up and Michael could feel the heat flare behind his sternum.

‘I will.’ It came out a little choked up and Alex smirked like he knew exactly what was going through Michael’s head. Max, however, frowned.

‘Maybe you should grab a sip of water, Michael.’ Alex bit his lip as tried to nod seriously.

‘Yes Michael, maybe you should.’ Michael was tempted to throw the ball at his head, but he didn’t. He also didn’t stick out his tongue, because he was a prince and princes didn’t do stuff like that. He had some semblance of self-control. Ha. Funny.

Getting back to Kensington went with way too many photographers and crowds for Michael to be comfortable. He knew there was a reason he disliked his birthday. Alex made everything a little easier though, and Michael wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Alex was equally uncomfortable, but equally practiced at hiding it. There was a comfort in knowing he wasn’t the only one that hated this, that he wasn’t the only one who wished he could have been anyone but who he was.

He had hoped he could get Alex alone for a little while before they had to go to Michael’s official party, organized by Isobel, but no luck. His sister immediately demanded his attention. She was thrilled after her little shopping trip with Liz and wouldn’t leave him alone for a second. He went along with it, because she was his sister and he loved her but he’d really thought he’d actually be able to get his hands on Alex at some point while he was here for _three_ _days_ , but so far, no luck.

So, he kept his hands to himself, he smiled politely, let Isobel command him around. Showered, got dressed, actually made an effort with his hair, he was being a good brother.

Biggest issue with that?

Alex looked like a dream.

Michael literally groaned the second Alex appeared at the venue Isobel had rented out. Some fancy club in the middle of London. Expensive looking bar, wide open dance floor, booths. Everything looked luxurious and sleek. Isobel had clearly made an effort. Sure, Michael didn’t really know more than half of the people there (most only by name), but still, it was nice of her.

‘You did this, didn’t you?’ He asked Isobel who was standing next to him. She smiled, self-satisfied and hummed vaguely. Not an answer, but an answer none the less. ‘God dammit Izzy.’

Alex was wearing fairly plain black pants, but tucked into it was his shirt: bright blue, _royal_ blue. Short sleeved, the top few buttons undone, one more than normally. There was a shadow of stubble on his jaw, accentuating those ridiculous cheekbones. He wasn’t even dressed very fancily, just black jeans and a button up. Simple, and somehow he looked expensive and better than anyone else in the damn club.

Liz looked nice too.

‘So, what does the Son of America drink?’ Michael managed as Alex came within earshot. They had to stand fairly close, the music was already turned up to near deafening. Fuck, he smelled good too. Something rich and expensive that made Michael want to bury his nose in Alex’s neck. He didn’t.

‘I’m not much of a drinker.’ Alex said in reply. Michael hummed, unable to keep himself from running his tongue along his bottom lip. Alex’s eyes followed the movement.

‘Let me guess, because you’re a control freak.’ Michael said and Alex’s eyebrows darted towards his hairline.

‘Am I?’ He asked in a tone that suggested Michael was on thin ice.

‘Yes.’ Alex smiled, a sly little thing and properly stepped into Michael’s space, his lips brushed past Michael’s ear as he spoke.

‘Well, how about when we leave, you come to my room and I’ll tie you to the bedpost with your tie and show you how much I enjoy being in control.’ He pulled back, nimble fingers, straightening Michael’s tie and smiling secretively before grabbing Liz’s hand and heading off to the dancefloor. Michael turned to Isobel after tearing his eyes away from Alex.

‘What time can I leave?’

‘I hate you.’ Isobel said. ‘I don’t even _want_ to know what he just said, just know that I hate you. I’ve been planning this for _months_.’

‘Hey, you’re the one who dressed him up like that.’ Michael said holding his hands up in the air. Alex was walking around looking like that, what was he supposed to do except fall at his feet and do whatever he asked?

‘I didn’t “dress him up like that”, I merely suggested to Liz that we should buy him a shirt while we were out and we did.’ Isobel said haughtily. ‘It is not my fault that you are head over heels in love with him.’ The snarky response he’d been planning died on Michael’s tongue.

‘Wait, what?’ He asked. ‘I’m not in love with him.’ Isobel sighed, deep and long. ‘Look I like him, sure. He’s fun and he’s hot, but I’m not in _love with him_.’

‘Oh sweetie.’ Isobel just said before she headed off to the dancefloor, presumably to find Noah who was there somewhere. Michael just stood there for a few seconds gaping after her.

That was ridiculous. He was _not_ in love with Alex Manes.

Was he?

Neither of them had the excuse of being drunk, tipsy _maybe_ , and that’s if they were being generous. Michael had had two drinks, that was it, and Alex hadn’t had much more. Still they were laughing over nothing and bumping into each other. The fluttery feeling in Michael’s stomach couldn’t really be blamed on alcohol, didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it anyways. He was not in love with Alex.

Yasir had kept them apart with a sharp glare the whole trip back to Kensington, in the car and through the halls as they made their way to Alex’s rooms this time. Oliver seemed to find the whole thing a little more amusing, he was still firm about them being inside, behind a closed door before they even so much as looked at each other.

‘Your mother is going to kill me.’ Yasir said as Michael slipped into Alex’s rooms.

‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ Oliver said before Alex followed him inside. Alex laughed and closed the door firmly behind himself, clicking the lock into place.

Michael was on him immediately. Dignity wasn’t something he was concerned with, not when Alex looked like that and had been dancing like he had been with those _hips_. He tugged Alex’s shirt from his pants with one hand while the other dug into his hair, kissing him deeply. Alex groaned as Michael slipped his hand under Alex’s shirt as soon as he could, touching that warm, soft skin he’d been teasing Michael with all night. Alex pushed Michael backwards so he wasn’t pressed against the door anymore.

As they stumbled through the living space, Michael suddenly remembered Alex’s whispered words from earlier. It send a flash of heat down his spine.

‘I remember-‘ He managed between kisses. ‘-a certain-‘ Alex tugged on his hair causing his breath to hitch. ‘-promise you made.’ Alex moved them around the coffee table with a hand clenched in Michael’s shirt. Good God, one of them was going to break something, weren’t they?

Alex smiled against his mouth, nipping playfully at Michael’s bottom lip. He hummed as Michael dragged him in the direction of the bedroom (or at least, where he was pretty sure the bedroom was). By some miracle, they didn’t run into any furniture or break anything expensive.

The bed was still perfectly made, a mountain of pillows for Alex to bounce off as Michael pushed him back onto the bed. Alex rolled his eyes, hooked his foot (god they still had shoes on) behind Michael’s knee and pulled him towards him.

They wiggled out of shoes and shirts and pants (Alex made him keep the tie on with a glint in his eyes that made Michael moan), only pausing for heated kisses. Michael swore he would never be able to forget the feeling of Alex’s hands trailing over his sides, dancing along his ribs, dipping into his boxers. Those _hands_.

Alex kissed him and kissed him and kissed him and Michael felt like he was both flying and drowning at the same time. It was terrifying and yet, he wanted more, he needed more, he needed this all the time. But then he also felt like if this was taken away from him… he didn’t know what he’d do. His head was spinning and his emotions seemed to be doing cartwheels and Michael was so completely, utterly, in over his head.

Alex did, in fact, tie Michael’s hands to the headboard with his own tie. Alex took him apart and put him back together, everything just an inch to the left of where it’d been before. Shit, was it always supposed to be like this? Was every kiss supposed to feel monumental? Was every touch supposed to feel like it lingered for hours? Was he supposed to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t spill out a whole load of nonsense about Alex’s hands or his mouth or his eyes or his smile or the way he touched him or looked at him?

It was nearly 2am by the time they settled under the covers. Alex had mentioned he wanted to sleep in his own room that night. Michael understood, it would be highly suspicious if he was there for two nights and his rooms would be completely unused. Sure, they could explain it away saying he slept in Liz’s bed (because that was the latest rumour apparently, that Alex was dating Liz), but still. He, however, had never said that Michael couldn’t stay in his room with him and he hadn’t kicked Michael out yet, so he was going to push his luck and stay until Alex told him to leave.

It was strange. It wasn’t even like Alex had tied Michael up particularly tight. He could have gotten his hands loose if he wanted to, but there was something incredibly nice about handing over control to someone else. Or, no, Michael didn’t think he would have liked that with just anyone. It was nice handing over control to someone he _trusted_. Oh, wait. He trusted Alex. In hindsight that was sort of obvious, but maybe Michael just hadn’t really noticed before.

He trusted Alex.

He wanted to be around Alex all the time.

He wanted to kiss Alex and hold Alex and talk to Alex and be around Alex and-

Oh good _fucking_ God. _He was in love with Alex._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'll be back on Friday! 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna say too much because I gotta go finish chapter 21, but there's a lot of talking in this chapter. Necessary talking! They're still not great at communicating, but at least they're talking!

Do you remember all of those smart things Alex promised himself? Like how he wasn’t going to have another sleepover. How he wasn’t going to let himself fall any deeper? How he had to keep in mind this was just sex, nothing more?

Yeah, well he fucking failed at all of those.

It wasn’t his fault, not really. Michael had to smile at him like that and look at him like that. He had to go and tuck Alex into his side, trace patterns over the skin of Alex’s back. He had to go and look all rumpled and blissed out and _soft_. So, no. It wasn’t Alex’s fault, he was just weak.

It was nearing 3am when Michael spoke up. It seemed to be their time of day. Something about that time made them feel safe. The idea that everyone else was asleep, but they weren’t. Safe in their own little bubble.

‘Can you tell me about your mom?’ Alex knew Michael could feel the immediate tension in his shoulders. Michael didn’t look at him, he was staring up at the ceiling instead, his hand didn’t stop its slow circles over Alex’s back.

‘I barely remember her.’ Alex said carefully. He tried to find the words to continue, but he didn’t really know how. What was he supposed to say? ‘She met my dad when they were in high school. She was sixteen when she got pregnant with Flint. They got married, had three more kids. I was five when they split, my dad got us, she left. I saw her maybe twice after that, not since I was eleven.’ He tried to shrug it off, casually, but he knew it didn’t work. He just hoped Michael would let it slide.

‘She has never reached out?’ Michael asked.

‘If she did, I wasn’t told about it.’ Alex had had his suspicions over the years. He knew his father controlled a lot of what he was told, he controlled everything he knew about his mom. He’d tried to find her, but one of the secret service guys had overheard him talking to Liz about it, and the next thing he knew his dad was screaming at him about how he wouldn’t let Alex’s interest in the woman that left all of them ruin his chances at becoming the Republican candidate for the presidency. He forbade Alex from trying to contact her again, and Alex listened.

‘I don’t think I could handle that.’ Michael trailed his hand up and down Alex’s arm. ‘Knowing my mother was out there, but not being able to reach out.’

‘Yeah.’ Alex could imagine it would be like that for him. ‘I bet you wish you could talk to your dad one more time.’ Alex flinched at how insensitive that came out. ‘Sorry, I didn’t-‘

‘No, you are right.’ Michael sighed. ‘Did you know that my grandmother never liked me very much?’ Alex frowned, resting his hand on Michael’s chest.

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Yeah, as a kid I never really understood, but when I got older it started to make sense. She never wanted my mom to marry my dad, but she did it anyways.’ Michael let out a soft humourless laugh. ‘I look like him.’ Ale could feel him swallow, nodding slowly. ‘I’ve got his hair, his eyes, his “wild nature”. I was always too much like him for her to think of me as a proper member of the family. My mom was always so strong though, so unflinching even in the face of her own mom, the Queen.’ Alex could hear the “and then” in the air. ‘Then he got sick, and within a few months he was gone, and a month later my grandmother died, and suddenly my mom had to be Queen, when she’d just lost her husband _and_ her mother. She had to put all of her energy into being Queen, there wasn’t much left for being a mother.’

‘I never thought my father would win.’ Alex offered. He wouldn’t pretend to know what it had been like for Michael, just like he hoped Michael wouldn’t pretend to know what it had been like for Alex. ‘I never _wanted_ him to win.’ He let out a humourless little laugh. ‘I had practiced my losing face.’ Michael huffed that nearly, almost laughing noise.

‘Why haven’t you ever left?’ Michael asked and it sounded like it was something that had been on his mind for a while.

‘I would have moved to the other side of the world a long time ago, if I didn’t think he’d have me dragged back kicking and screaming.’ Alex shifted. ‘Here’s what you need to understand about my father: He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about any of us. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, his money and his power. Being in control is the only thing he really cares about, and they made him president of one of the most powerful countries in the world.’ That disbelieving, almost scared laugh slipped out again. ‘He paid for me to go to college. He has me paying that back by working for him. I think he knows I don’t want to be there, but he also knows I’m not strong enough to really stand up to him.’

‘That’s not true.’ A simple statement. Like it was easy.

‘How would you know that?’ Alex asked, his tone too sharp for 3am.

‘Because you’re here.’ Michael offered. ‘Because I know you don’t just blindly agree with him, because I know you have opinions, because you never outright agree with him. Sure, you don’t publicly say you disagree, but you don’t go out saying you approve either. You’re smart, you’ll get away from him and then you’re going to do something incredible.’

Shit. Change the subject.

‘Tell me about your father?’ If Michael was allowed to ask about Alex’s mother, Alex was allowed to ask about his father, right? Michael breathed out long and slow before he started talking.

‘He was my best friend. I _am_ a lot like him, my grandmother was right about that. I miss him more than anything. He always made me feel normal.’ Alex tilted his head up, trying to get a good look at Michael’s face. He was still staring at the ceiling.

‘There’s nothing wrong with you, you do know that, right?’ Alex said. ‘Just because your stuffy, old grandma didn’t understand you doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.’ Alex poked him in the side. ‘Don’t tell my dad I said this but, there’s nothing wrong with being different.’ Michael smiled, he turned his head to look at Alex, finally and kissed him softly.

‘Thank you.’

‘Sure thing. Any other questions?’ Alex asked. Now that they were talking about emotional shit, they might as well keep going.

‘Yes, actually.’ Michael said, shifting around as he turned onto his side, facing Alex. ‘You and Oliver, you two seem close.’

‘That’s not technically a question.’ Alex said, and Michael groaned. ‘Okay, alright. Uh, he became my personal agent when I was seventeen and my dad just got elected. He was one of the first people to find out I was gay, besides Kyle, Liz and Maria. I was so fucking scared he’d tell, judge me or ask for a transfer, but he never did. He’s helped me figure my shit out, he’s always been more of a friend than an employee.’

‘How did he find out?’ Alex huffed out a laugh at the memory.

‘He found me and Kyle making out, maybe two weeks into his tenure protecting me.’

‘Woah, woah, wait. Hold on.’ Michael said, frowning at Alex. ‘ _Kyle_?’

‘Yeah.’ Alex shrugged. ‘We hooked up for a while, but we both agreed we were better of as friends.’

‘I- I did not know that.’

‘Does that bother you?’ Alex asked, suddenly unsure of why he’d even said that.

‘Well, I mean. No, not really.’ He didn’t sound super convincing.

‘We haven’t in _years_ , he’s my best friend, that’s it.’ Alex hesitated, he really wanted that frown to leave Michael’s face. ‘There’s been no one else, not since we- uh.’

‘Me neither.’ Alex’s shoulders relaxed and he could feel the nugget of tension in his stomach disappear.

‘I mean, we let the papers think I’m dating Liz, but that’s mostly so they don’t get on my case all the time, and so that my dad doesn’t get suspicious.’ Alex said, it had been like that since his father first got elected. It had been Oliver’s idea actually, Liz was perfectly happy being single and so they let the rumours be rumours, Alex would head to New York from time to time, sleep in Liz’s guest room. It was simple and since neither of them actually ever _said_ anything about if they were dating or not, they weren’t technically lying.

‘That’s good.’ Michael said, he opened his mouth and closed it again. Alex sighed.

‘Whatever it is, just ask.’

‘How bad do you think it would actually be, if people found out?’ Michael asked and Alex tipped his head to the side, considering it.

‘Well, it depends on who finds out.’ He pulled one shoulder up in a shrug. ‘If I told Kyle or Maria, I’m sure it would be fine. However, one of my brothers would probably go straight to my dad and that would be-‘ Alex couldn’t stop the small chill from running down his spine.

‘Do you think he’d actually hurt you?’ Michael asked carefully. Alex looked at him in the dark of the room. He looked scared, scared for Alex.

‘Maybe, since he became President, he hasn’t really touched me, but who knows.’ Alex said carefully. ‘For the last four years he’s been very controlling, but I’m hoping that after the election, he’ll give me some breathing room.’

‘Do you think he’s going to get re-elected?’

‘I would hope not.’ Alex hesitated, but didn’t tell Michael about the thing he was pointedly _not_ thinking about. ‘So, uh, New York in a few weeks?’

‘Yes, Liz already invited both me and Isobel, we’ll be there.’

‘And we’ll do the MOMA.’

‘Yes we will.’

‘Alright.’ Alex considered joking that Michael should head back to his own room now, but it was already so late and he was very comfortable, so he didn’t. It was fine.

They slept late the next day. Late to the point that Oliver, eyes firmly pointed at the ceiling marched into Alex’s rooms and yelled at him to get his ass out of bed or he’d miss his flight. That lead to a scramble to find all of his clothes and shove them in his suitcase, he was sure he’d forgotten something, but Michael could bring that when they met up in New York in a few weeks.

Oliver pointedly turned his back as Alex kissed Michael goodbye, unwilling to deny himself that.

The plane journey home was fairly subdued. Liz was absorbed by a big, complicated looking book that Alex didn’t even want to pretend to understand. Something science-y that Liz was reading like it was the morning paper. Casual.

He was glad they were in a private plane as they taxied over the runway in Washington, Liz would stay there for a few more days before she headed back to New York.

‘So, you’re in love with him huh?’ Alex nearly choked on the sip of water he was just taking. He spluttered, swivelling his head towards her and then around the plane. The four Secret Service agents that flew to London with them all had headphones in but still.

‘What the fuck, Liz?’ He asked, leaning towards her, frown firmly on his face. She rolled her eyes.

‘Relax, I just asked if any of them wanted champagne and none of them responded.’

‘And what if there’d been a drop in their music? What if they’d just been switching between songs?’ He asked, he could hear the almost hysteric undertone in his own voice.

‘ _Alex_.’ She said and he knew she hadn’t asked it loudly, not at all, in fact. She was right, none of them had responded before and she’d spoken louder then, but the panic squeezing at his stomach didn’t make those rational thoughts feel all that likely. ‘ _Breathe_.’ She said in that calm, commanding tone he admired so much.

He did. He forced himself to breathe slowly, in and out. He didn’t really register what she asked until the plane had stopped and they were allowed to go out into the fresh, chilly Washington air. He waited until they were in the car with just Oliver before talking.

‘Of course I am.’ He said. He didn’t need to elaborate any further, she’d understand. ‘I think I’m doomed to fall for guys who I will never be able to really _be_ with.’ He said, low and with an annoying amount of hurt. ‘I’m just doomed in general.’

‘I don’t believe that. You’ll be happy one day.’ One day, but when?

‘I don’t think I’ll ever be truly happy. Not as long as my father is around.’

‘You can’t keep letting him dictate your life. You’re already working on that, you’re making that file.’ She grabbed his hand, her fingers firm around his. ‘You can, and will, be free of him.’ She squeezed his hand, drawing his eyes to her. ‘I know you, Alex Manes, and you’re brave and strong and kind. You will win, in the end.’ He didn’t know what to say to that. He’d somehow managed to find a group of friends that seemed to think he was capable of leading some kind of revolution. How, he didn’t know.

‘Right.’ He just said, not really a confirmation, more of an attempt at stopping this line of the conversation.

He needed to talk to Kyle, so he texted him as they drove. He replied almost immediately that he’d meet Alex there in thirty minutes. They were about fifteen minutes away.

He didn’t get to focus on Kyle right away, because Hunter was waiting for him when he arrived back at the White House. His expression was uncharacteristically serious. It made Alex immediately suspicious.

‘Hey, I need to talk to you.’ Hunter said and Alex started heading towards his room.

‘Okay, go ahead.’ Alex said, keeping his expression carefully blank as Hunter followed him.

‘Are you okay?’ The question surprised him, not quite what he’d been expecting.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’ He frowned as he answered. Hunter looked at him closely.

‘Right. Look, I meant to talk to you before you left for London, because you sure as hell didn’t look fine then.’ Alex felt confused as Hunter followed him into his room. ‘Look, I know dad works you harder than he does with any of us, just-‘ He seemed to look for the right words. ‘Just make sure you look out for yourself. I know we don’t always get along, but I don’t want you to end up miserable.’ The “like Robert” wasn’t said, but heavily implied.

Alex truly didn’t understand what was going on. He figured he could say that much.

‘That’s nice, but uh- Hunter, I have no idea what’s going on right now.’ Hunter sighed, something like sadness on his face.

‘Look, I know I haven’t exactly been the best brother to you’ he continued mumbling, ‘although I’d like to think I’m a better brother than the others,’ that made Alex actually snort out a laugh. ‘but I do care about you.’ He said in his normal volume. ‘You’re my little brother.’

The words were nice and Alex wouldn’t pretend he hadn’t longed for them in the past. Now, however, they just send a wave of suspicion crashing over him. Hunter was the politician, the manipulator.

‘Look, I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well the week before I went to London, caught up on some on the plane, I’m _fine_.’ Hunter didn’t look like he believed him, but a knock on the frame of the open door stopped him from asking any more. It was Kyle.

‘Hey Alex.’

‘Hey Kyle, come in. Hunter was just leaving.’ His brother sighed, but left with a final look at Alex over his shoulder. Kyle made a questioning face at him as he closed the door behind Hunter.

‘What did he want?’ He asked as he headed towards Alex. Alex himself moved to the couch placed near the big windows facing the garden. He and Kyle both flopped down.

‘Pretend he suddenly cares, apparently.’ Alex shrugged. ‘Other than that, not sure.’ Kyle hummed.

‘Weird.’ Alex huffed out a laugh. ‘So, what did you want to talk about?’ Alex wasn’t as nervous as he would have been, had Kyle not already known about Alex’s complete disinterest in women. Still, there was a spark of nerves in his stomach. If Kyle told him this was stupid, if he told him to stop, to get out while he still could, it would shake Alex, no doubt.

‘I’m sleeping with prince Michael.’ He said it softly, still nervous about anyone overhearing. He elaborated without Kyle asking. ‘I’m in love with him.’ Kyle sighed.

‘Yeah, I figured as much.’ Alex wasn’t even really surprised. Kyle had always been able to read him better than anyone else. ‘Does he make you happy?’ Alex tried to keep the soft smile from his face, but he knew he didn’t succeed.

‘Yeah.’ Alex admitted. ‘I’ve told him stuff I’ve only told you and he just doesn’t seem to- I don’t know. I keep waiting for him to run, I keep waiting for that moment where he realizes he can do so much better than me. I keep waiting for the moment where he realizes all of the trouble isn’t worth it and he goes and finds some girl he can actually be public with, one he can marry. But it just isn’t coming and I don’t know what to do.’ Alex hadn’t meant to say all of that. ‘I keep falling deeper and deeper and when he does leave, it’s going to _destroy_ me, K.’

‘First of all. He’s lucky to have you, you’re amazing and I don’t know how many more times you are going to make me say it before you believe me. You’re the bravest person I know.’ Kyle said, turning to face him. ‘As for him leaving one day: He might, he might not, but do you really want to let that ruin what you have with him _now_? It’s going to hurt either way, might as well enjoy it while you have it.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a question: What has been your favourite part/ moment/ line/ chapter so far? I'm curious!
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments make me squeal with delight!


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Sunday, another week done! I am actually getting towards the end with writing this! Which is both sad and exciting, and it does mean that soon I'll actually know exactly how many chapters and words I'm going to end up with!

**Can I bring Isobel to New York?**

Was the text that Michael send to Alex three days before Liz’s birthday spectacular in New York. 

**I’m sure Liz won’t mind.**

**Everything okay?**

He had send the text at what was 5am DC time, so Alex’s silence for the next three hours was actually a little reassuring. His immediate awareness that something was off sparked warmth in Michael’s stomach. He looked over at Isobel who was curled up on Michael’s bed as he sat on the couch, watching her steadily, unwilling to look away from her for too long.

**She needs to get out of London for a bit.**

Was Michael’s only explanation. He hoped Alex would accept that. He didn’t really have a problem sharing his own issues with Alex, he trusted him after all, but Isobel’s problems were hers to share, not his.

**Alright, looking forward to seeing her. Maria is coming over from LA, we’re doing karaoke. Be prepared.**

**Be prepared? That sounds… ominous.**

**When we do karaoke, we go full out.**

Michael wasn’t going to pretend like he could sing, he really couldn’t, but wasn’t karaoke all about that: being very drunk and therefor forgetting you couldn’t sing?

He remembered Maria from the party at the White House at New Year’s, but he hadn’t paid her much attention, he’d been slightly distracted by Alex (which was his usual state nowadays).

**Consider me both scared and intrigued.**

The day Michael and Isobel arrived in New York was also the day they immediately went and visited the Museum of Modern Art, which held Starry Night. Alex brought Liz (which made Isobel feel a little better, she’d complained about not wanting to be the third wheel to Michael and his boytoy the whole time).

Starry Night was, admittedly, very beautiful, but what Michael found even more stunning was Alex and the way he talked about and looked at the painting. There was a certain melancholy in the way Alex studied the painting and talked about it. That seemed to be about Van Gogh and his story. The painter who only got famous after his death. Van Gogh, who famously only sold one painting while he was alive.

Michael understood Alex’s fascination with the story. It was about legacy. What would people remember you for after you died?

Luckily Liz didn’t let them wallow in the sadness of the story for too long. She dragged them along through New York, the buffer of the girls being with them made Michael feel much less nervous about the camera’s he could feel aimed at them everywhere they seemed to go. Security couldn’t catch everything, sadly. He knew what the papers would write already. “Alex Manes and girlfriend Liz Ortecho out on the town with royal company”. It was genius, in a way.

No one would suspect a thing.

He wasn’t even sure how they ended up on the topic, but Liz and Alex seemed to be arguing about which of Henry the 8th’s wives had it worst. Considering he was Michael’s great-great-great(?) grandfather, it was all a bit strange.

‘Okay, okay,’ Alex said as they entered Liz’s apartment. ‘can we just agree that he was an asshole?’ Liz sighed.

‘Fine.’

‘Um, well, that was interesting.’ Isobel said with a small smile as Liz seemed to realize the whole “yes he’s our ancestor” thing.

‘Oh I’m-‘

‘Don’t apologize.’ Michael said before she could finish that sentence. ‘We are perfectly aware that our family history isn’t exactly… the best.’ Alex let out a laugh.

‘Understatement of the century.’

‘Okay, let’s not push it.’ Michael teased.

‘Or what? Are you gonna have me beheaded for my promiscuity outside of wedlock?’ The wide eyes and the pouty bottom lip were completely unfair as Alex snarked back. There was a truly filthy reply on the tip of his tongue (I do really like your _head_ ), but he managed not to say it out loud. There were ladies around after all.

‘Oh please, Michael can’t judge anyone for promiscuity.’ Isobel said with raised eyebrows as she looked over Liz’s dining room table, it was covered in what seemed to be scientific papers.

‘Wow, thanks Izzy.’ Michael said as Alex laughed. Liz was hurrying over to the aforementioned table.

‘I didn’t have time to clean up, sorry about that.’ She said with a quick grin. Michael stepped a little closer to see the papers.

‘Don’t worry about it, this looks pretty cool.’

‘Ugh, that’s just his way of saying “I like science too and I might actually understand what you’re talking about, unlike your stupid friend”.’ Alex said behind him and Michael could _hear_ him roll his eyes. Michael bit his cheek to try and stop himself from grinning.

They snuck Alex into their hotel that night, specifically into Michael’s room. Isobel made a face at them and told him to keep it down. Alex rolled his eyes at her which made her grin before heading into her own room.

The way Alex kissed him drove any thoughts about being quiet from his mind. If he’d known how addictive Alex’s kisses were, he would never have kissed him in the first place. Well, that wasn’t quite true, he probably would have done it anyways, Michael had never had the best sense of self-preservation.

Alex wasn’t really supposed to sleep over. He was supposed to go back to Liz’s place. He didn’t. Neither of them talked about it, neither of them mentioned that Alex should leave. It seemed like the both of them were willing to ignore logic in favour of a good night’s sleep.

The next day they spend picking up various friends and getting ready for the party. Alex was a ball of excited energy. Michael hadn’t really seen him like this before. There was a lot of things Michael would describe Alex as, but excitable wasn’t one. Alex was usually very much in control. Michael liked that about him, as much as he understood that.

Michael had been raised not to let himself go outside of a select few safe environments. He was pretty sure Alex had been raised the same way. Jesse Manes didn’t seem like the kind of guy to encourage healthy ways to express emotions. He seemed like the kind of guy who would tell you to shut up and suck it up.

But here, in New York, around Liz, Kyle and Maria, Alex seemed to relax a little more. As Michael had noticed before, Alex and Kyle seemed very close. The knowledge they’d actually been sort of together for a while did spark a little jealousy. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. Michael didn’t get jealous. Yes, he was just going to completely ignore that nothing about this thing with Alex was like anything he’d felt before.

The initial party was pretty much what Michael expected. Loud music, dancing and a few drinks. However, Alex and the rest of his friends seemed to know it wouldn’t end there. Kyle offered the titbit of information that this was his first weekend off in a _while_ , since he was in medical school, so he was planning on going all in.

Maria (who seemed warm and kind) said something along the same lines. She also didn’t quite seem aware of what exactly what was going on between Michael and Alex, although Liz and Kyle certainly did. He did very much get the idea that she had a feeling of what was going on and when he asked Alex he mentioned that Maria was very intuitive and that even though he hadn’t told her outright, she probably knew.

The karaoke bar Liz lead them to after the official party was over was small, warm and luckily not that crowded. Their security had been going through the bar for thirty minutes before they arrived. They had been, apparently, very clear that there would be no pictures or videos taken. The bartender’s lips were painted pink and purple. She grinned widely at them as Liz ordered what appeared to be a row of shots. Oh dear, Michael hadn’t done shots in ages, but Alex grinned at him just right, holding up his glass to Michael’s and, well, Michael took the shot.

‘Ugh.’ Michael said as the liquor burned its way down his throat. ‘Was that tequila?’

‘Yes.’ Liz said happily. Isobel laughed, loose and free and Michael was so, so happy to hear that sound.

‘This should be fun.’ She said, smirking mostly at Alex. ‘Tequila makes him… slutty.’ Alex turned to him with a truly shit-eating grin and hummed.

‘Really now.’

Michael really wasn’t sure how it all happened, but they ended up in a booth with several more lines of shots. Michael had missed this, the warmth and the comradery of drinking with friends. He thought he’d had friends before, but his “friends” hadn’t been friends. Considering Michael couldn’t stand them sober, they weren’t actual friends. This didn’t feel like that.

This felt safe.

After the first few shots everything went warm and a little hazy. He wouldn’t have been able to tell you how or why, but Isobel ended up on stage first. She found a plastic crown in a prop box (much to the delight of the crowd) as she did a less than stellar, but very enthusiastic rendition of _Dancing Queen_.

As Maria headed up to the stage, Alex leaned a little further into Michael’s space. There wasn’t much space to begin with, cramped into a single booth with the six of them, but this was unnecessary (though not unwelcome). As Maria sang _You Learn_ , by Alanis Morissette, Alex landed a single hand on Michael’s leg. Michael’s arm was already resting over the back of the booth so that Alex was practically curled into his side. They should not be sitting like this, but maybe they were drunk enough to justify it.

‘I wanna kiss you really badly.’ Alex’s low voice in his ear made him shiver despite the hot, humid air in the bar.

‘Have I mentioned lately that you are a demon?’ Michael whispered back. There was just enough of sober-Michael left to know that taking him up on that would be a truly terrible idea, so he didn’t, but dear god. ‘This is not going to make me get up there and sing, you know.’ Michael added, just for good measure. He needed at least five more drinks before that was going to happen. Alex, however-

‘Well, you’re a buzzkill.’ He said with a smirk as Maria had joined them again. ‘I guess I’ll just have to show you how it’s done.’

That was how, after Kyle truly _butchered_ _Toxic_ , by Britney Spears (honestly, what?), Alex ended up on stage with a glittery golden boa around his neck and the opening beats of _I Want It All_ reverberating through the bar.

Michael couldn’t stop his mouth from dropping open as Alex made his way through the first part of the song.

‘Holy shit.’ He said to Maria as Alex danced across the stage. ‘He told me that he’d want to make music if he could do anything, but he’s _good_.’ Maria turned to him with a thoughtful expression on her face.

‘He told you about that? Huh.’ She didn’t elaborate and Michael, quite frankly, couldn’t take his eyes off Alex as he hit the second verse.

‘ _Listen all you people, come gather round.’_ He sang and the entire crowd kind of lost their minds. ‘ _I gotta get me a game plan, gonna shake you to the ground.’_ Michael could even see Oliver, standing near the door with a pink sparkly boa around his neck, smiling and bopping his head along to the beat.

Michael and the rest of the people in the bar ended up singing along to the chorus as Alex moved across the stage like he was born to be there. Shit Michael felt so, so hot. His poor heart. The crowd lost their minds as Alex hit a few truly spectacular and crystal clear notes at the end. Michael whistled on his fingers because fuck it that was sexy. Liz hollered from where she was practically standing on top of their table, Kyle was cheering through hiccups of laughter as he held Liz’s leg to make sure she didn’t fall over.

It was only now that Michael realized how much Alex normally held back. He seemed so… happy and loud and _free_ on stage like this. It made Michael’s heart hurt to see how much of himself Alex had to hide on a daily basis, but it also made him fiercely proud that he’d been allowed to see this.

‘Your turn, Your Highness.’ Alex smirked, leaning into Michael’s space as he arrived back at their table.

‘No.’ Michael said simply before looking up at Alex. ‘That was amazing.’ Alex physically kind of stuttered. His whole body seeming like it had shut down for a second before rebooting.

‘That’s unfair.’ Alex mumbled.

‘What is?’

‘You can’t look at me like that, not while we’re in public.’ It took Michael a beat to realize _he_ was the reason for that look on Alex’s face.

‘I think we should go to the hotel, yes?’ Michael suddenly found himself saying, already pushing himself out of the booth, only a little unsteady on his feet. Liz honest-to-god _cackled,_ but started herding a truly hammered Kyle out of the booth with a little help from Maria. Isobel seemed tipsy, but not as drunk as the rest of them. She lead the way to the door, her sharp looks making people move out of their way automatically.

Michael found himself giggling, holding onto the back of Maria’s shirt as Alex held onto Michael. They basically did a little polonaise out of the bar.

The night’s air was cool and Michael was truly grateful for the competence of the secret service. There was a car waiting for them, Oliver had lost the boa and was standing at the door of the car looking both amused and unamused at the same time. It was impressive.

‘Olly!’ Alex exclaimed happily. ‘Did you see me go? Did you sing along? You better have been singing along, I know you love that song.’ Alex babbled enthusiastically as he climbed into the car.

‘He was totally bopping his head along.’ Michael offered as he followed Alex into the car. He ignored Oliver’s narrowed eyes.

‘Ha!’ Alex said, half clambering over Michael in order to lean from the car and point at Oliver. ‘I knew it.’ Oliver rolled his eyes so hard it had to hurt and he made a face at Alex.

‘Get in the car and stop talking.’ Alex pouted and actually stuck his tongue out at Oliver but he didn’t speak anymore and he flopped onto a seat. He mumbled under his breath and Michael was a little bit mesmerised by him. Was this what Alex had been like as a child?

When they’d all been moved into the car, the drive back to the hotel started. Luckily it wasn’t far. Liz and Kyle sang along to the radio (both completely off key) and Isobel seemed to be making friends with Maria, which made Michael smile.

Alex was being a menace. His hand had landed on Michael’s thigh pretty much the second they pulled away from the curb and it had slowly, but steadily been climbing higher. Michael should probably not be encouraging his behaviour and if he’d been sober he probably wouldn’t have, but he wasn’t. So instead he curled his arm around Alex’s shoulder and brushed his fingers along Alex’s jaw. It earned him a satisfied little noise. Everyone seemed to be ignoring them, so Michael did it again.

‘It’s only a few more minutes to the hotel.’ Alex murmured, turning his head so that his nose brushed along Michael’s jaw.

‘Good.’ Michael said, smiling at Alex. Alex grinned back at him, wide and loose and pleased. He looked _happy_. Drunk in the back seat of a car with his friends, Michael and his sister, after singing his heart out in a dingy karaoke bar in New York and Alex looked happier than Michael remembered ever seeing him.

He felt privileged that he was being allowed to witness all of this.

At the hotel, everyone but Liz and Maria stumbled from the car. Maria was apparently staying with Liz, while Kyle had a room in the same hotel Isobel and Michael did. Alex danced to the elevator music as they made their way up to their floor, much to the delight of Kyle and the exasperation of Oliver.

‘Do not let him do anything stupid.’ Oliver said, surprisingly soft and genuinely concerned as Alex tripped into Michael’s suite. ‘I’ve got his phone, stay inside the room.’ Michael wasn’t sure what made this time different from any other, but he still nodded firmly, trying to appear more sober than he felt.

‘Yes sir.’ Oliver sighed but smiled.

‘Alright boys, be safe.’ He said before heading off down the hall. Michael grinned, he couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had called him “boy”.

‘I like Oliver.’ He said as he put the “do not disturb” sign on the door, closed and locked it.

‘Me too!’ Alex said happily as he toed off his shoes. ‘He’s the best.’

Alex didn’t hesitate for a second as he started stripping off his clothes, revealing more and more tanned skin. He looked at Michael over his shoulder.

‘You’re falling behind. Chop, chop.’ Michael tore his eyes away from the dips low on Alex’s back and got with the programme. He should probably have hung up his shirt properly, it was very expensive after all, but who had time for that when Alex Manes was tugging his own pants off and turning around to launch himself at Michael. Michael slid his hands over the firm planes of Alex’s back, pulling him close.

There was a firm, sharp intent in the way Alex kissed him that made Michael feel like maybe this time was not quite like the times before.

‘Do you wanna try something new?’ Alex asked as they parted for breath. Michael was nodding before he could even properly think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end this on another baby cliffhanger! I swear I didn't plan for this to fall on a Sunday!  
> Thank you so much for reading and your continued support!
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! A chapter on Monday?! Who am I? What's happening?! Are you in an AU?   
> Nope, just me being an over-excited bean, because guess what? I am nearly done! I have somehow managed to go from "oh god can I still do three chapters a week?" to "holy shit let's post four times this week!". Honestly though, I'm just having so much fun with this and seeing your reactions. I think I have maybe two or three chapters to write and then it's going to be done! I'm currently on chapter 26 (I know :O)

Alex was in that really, really fucking pleasant space where he was drunk enough not to feel any of his normal stupid little rules holding him back, but not so drunk he wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.

He would remember perfectly well how the two of them ended up on the bed, how Michael’s hands had felt on his skin, how he’d kissed his neck and how Michael’s curls had felt under his hands. He would also remember exactly how he ended up on Michael’s lap, only in his underwear.

‘So, what are you planning?’ Michael asked and Alex needed a second to listen past the stupidly attractive curl of his voice around the words. Oh yes, the plan.

Look, Alex wouldn’t say he was an impatient person, per se. No one who worked with computers or could hack like Alex could ( _technically,_ of course, he would _never_ actually-), could be impatient. It was slow work, long arduous hours fighting against coding. So, he wasn’t impatient and he really liked what he and Michael had done so far, he just figured they could take it a little further now. Aided by the liquid courage also known as tequila, he decided now was the time.

‘Only if you’re up for it,’ Alex said first, Michael’s agreement earlier didn’t mean shit. ‘but I really want you to fuck me.’ Michael’s hands stilled where they’d been roaming all over Alex. The look in his eyes as he looked up at Alex was surprised, but not disgusted or anything, so he’d take that as a positive.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah.’ Alex said with a shrug. ‘Are you?’ Michael seemed to actually consider it for a second (which Alex kind of appreciated) before he answered.

‘Yes.’ Michael said, looking up at him with those whiskey coloured eyes. God, he was so pretty.

‘ _Then just give me, what I know is mine. Baby, do you hear me, just gimme the sign_.’ Alex sung under his breath, earning him a fond eyeroll from Michael. He licked his lips before answering.

‘That’s not the line.’

‘I know, but you like it when I call you baby.’ Alex said with a smirk. Michael responded by sliding his hand around the back of Alex’s head and pulling him down for a kiss. The hot intent in the way Michael kissed him made Alex moan in the back of his throat.

Alex never really thought anyone could quiet his over-active brain. He didn’t think there was anyone in the world that could make him forget all of the things he shouldn’t, with one kiss, but here he was. A prince, golden haired, strong, smart, kissed Alex like it was the last thing he’d choose to do on earth.

How in the hell was he supposed to survive this?

‘Are you familiar with the mechanics of what we’re about to do?’ Alex asked as they parted for breath.

‘I may have done some research.’ That startled a groan from Alex, his mind supplying him with plenty of dirty images.

‘Good God, Michael.’ He could feel Michael smirk as he kissed Alex’s throat. It pained him to have to move to get the stuff they needed, judging by the needy whine, Michael seemed to agree. ‘Shush.’ Alex said as he dug around his suitcase. He had not been preparing for this, per se, he’d just wanted to be prepared, just in case. Michael caught the travel sized bottle of lube with an amused smile on his face as Alex threw it at him.

‘Really?’ Michael said. Alex held up the condom and wiggled it at Michael.

‘Do you want to make fun of me, or do you want to do this?’ Michael pressed his lips together pointedly. ‘I figured.’ Alex said as he made his way back into Michael’s space.

Alex had done this before, several times with different people, but this felt different. Terrifyingly different. If he hadn’t been as tipsy as he was, he might have freaked out about it.

Instead he laid back and let Michael show him what he’d learned in his research. He’d clearly read/watched the right stuff because he didn’t seem like this was the first time he did this. Alex refused to be embarrassed about the way he squirmed and moaned as Michael’s fingers opened him up, slowly but surely.

‘Fucking shit, I knew you’d be good with your fingers.’ Alex managed as Michael gave him a second to breathe, rolling the condom on. Michael laughed, warm and _happy_. Alex was so far gone it wasn’t even funny anymore. This was going to hurt so badly when it ended.

Michael’s hand trailed over Alex’s chest, drawing him from his thoughts.

‘Okay?’ Michael asked, it was several questions in one. When did he start reading Alex like an open book?

‘Yes.’ Alex confirmed.

Michael didn’t ask any more questions, which Alex also appreciated. God, when he was half-drunk Michael somehow became even more irresistible, or was it Alex’s liquor addled mind? Oh, who cared?

Despite his apparent inexperience with men, Michael had done this part before. It was clear in the way he watched Alex closely for what made him groan, he touched him and kissed him like this was all he cared for. Like the world could burn around them and he wouldn’t even notice. Alex wasn’t even sure he’d notice if there was a hurricane outside right now. Who cared?

When it came down to it, Alex knew exactly what to do to push Michael over the edge. He tugged his head down, scraped his teeth along his neck and called him _baby_ again. Michael came with a shudder.

Floating down off his high of sex and alcohol was so very pleasant. Like drifting back down to earth on a cloud.

‘So, was that _all_ you _wanted_?’ Michael said, slightly out of breath and on the verge of giggling. Alex let out a bark of laughter, just drunk enough not to roll his eyes.

‘Good enough.’ Alex said with a smirk, letting his head flop to the side so he could watch Michael. ‘You’ll get me a towel, won’t you?’ Michael sighed, deep and resigned.

‘The things we do for love.’ He said as he rolled from the bed. Even in Alex’s inebriated state, the comment made him freeze. Love?

Michael was drunk, he shouldn’t read into this. He was probably just quoting the song. Alex refused to read into it, because if he did he was going to have to get out of here and he didn’t even really know where his clothes went. So it was nothing, he didn’t mean it like that.

However, weren’t drunk people supposed to be the most honest?

The next morning came with the pleasant burn of having had sex the night before and the godawful ache of having drank too much the night before. Their group ended up convening in the hallway, where Oliver handed him his phone again. Ah, so _that’s_ where that went.

Isobel looked fine, like she hadn’t drank at all. Liz and Kyle both looked like they’d rather be dead, while Maria looked tired, but somewhat smug as she was able to do more than just groan.

Michael, well, Alex had watched Michael get dressed. He’d indulged and let himself enjoy the way Michael’s muscles moved as he got dressed. He watched as Michael put himself together from “good god who the fuck woke me up” to “oh look it’s the prince of Wales”. It was startlingly close to how Alex imagined he looked getting dressed in the morning. It was like building up a character, the image the outside world got to see.

**Subject: Late night thoughts**

**Alex,**

**How did people do this back in the day? How did they have the patience to wait for letters to arrive? We are so lucky that we don’t have any of those issues. Thank God for the internet, right?**

**Because of the internet I can tell you right now that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your hands and your mouth. The curve of your hip (is that mark I left still there?). I can’t stop thinking about the look on your face, the way you kissed me or those damn noises you made.**

**I miss you. By God I miss you.**

**I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I shared a bottle of wine with Isobel tonight and she told me that I shouldn’t text you, so I’m not texting you, I’m emailing you instead.**

**Did you know I’ve been bloody useless all week? Max keeps asking me “what’s wrong?”, Max never asks me what’s wrong. I can’t stop thinking that somewhere out there you are parading around, looking like you do, smiling like you do. It’s unfair that I can’t be there to tell you how hot you look, because I just _know_ you look hot. **

**Did you know there’s such a thing as a “gentleman of the bedchamber”? Yeah, James I (who was so fucking gay), fell head over heels in love with a hot as hell, but very, very stupid knight and he gave him that title. I’d like to think he’d be cheering me on right now. James I, not the knight, he truly was exceptionally dim.**

**Yours, Michael**

Alex read the email more than once before looking away from his laptop and pressing his shaking hands to his face to hide the truly stupid grin on his face. They were writing love letters now?

He found his fingers hesitating over the keys. The concept of this was romantic. That was scary. The idea of _love_ letters was terrifying. But, well, it was only emails. Emails hidden behind layers of encryption his father would need to employ the actual CIA to get behind. What could possibly go wrong?

**RE: Subject: Late night thoughts**

**Michael,**

**Are you comparing me to an impressively stupid knight? You should know by now that I am _not_ a jock and I’m not stupid either. Although that title would be really hilarious to introduce myself with. Can you imagine? I can. My father would have a heart attack on the spot. **

**As for your drunk ramblings: I miss you too. I feel like I should be sitting in the windowsill as it rains outside and I sigh dramatically.**

**Too bad the elections are getting closer now and I don’t have time for any of that. I’m too busy shaking hands with people that I’m pretty sure are richer than your family as they tell me how _happy_ they are to be supporting my father towards a second term. Shaking hands with people that would suggest conversion therapy if they knew I was gay. I feel like I need to take at least five showers a day at this point. **

**I hate it.**

**I’ve officially decided that I hate politics. I hate the smiling and the shaking hands and the lying and the cheating. I hate that even though we’re all supposed to care about this country, all we really care about is power.**

**Sorry to turn your ode to my body into a political discussion.**

**X**

**Alex**

Alex hadn’t really written it down before, but it was all true. He hated politics, he hated having to smile at people who wouldn’t look twice at him had his last name not been Manes. He hated having to pretend to like people with so much money they couldn’t spend it in their lifetime if they tried, while they didn’t give a fuck about the planet or its people.

Besides Michael and the whole gay thing, Alex’s best kept secret was probably that he’d voted blue ever since he was old enough. He’d voted Democrat at every single election he was allowed to and he’d vote for the candidate they came up with to face off with his father. His votes were his, and he refused to let his father scare him into even letting his vote be swayed. He may not have much of his own _voice_ , but he did have his own vote.

‘Alex.’ Alex clicked out of his email and ended up staring at the Democratic polls again.

‘Hi dad.’ Alex said, turning to him, keeping his face blank.

‘You weren’t working.’ His father stated. Alex still refused to look guilty.

‘I was answering an email from Michael.’ The best lies were mostly true.

‘The prince?’ He stepped closer, slowly. When he was younger that would have made him feel like his father was some kind of predator, stalking closer. ‘So, you two are friends now?’ Apologize, that was the next step.

‘Yes, sorry. I shouldn’t let him distract me. I’ll go back to work.’ He said as his father tilted his head. He hummed, his hands behind his back.

‘No, no, don’t worry about it too much. He’s not the worst of your friends.’ His father’s eyes darted around his room. ‘I let you keep the Mexican girl because she’s smart and the Democrat because she fits into this idea of diversity that everyone seems to want nowadays, this prince is actually a good choice.’

It was a good thing Alex had learned how to hide his emotions from his father a long time ago because the righteous fury that burned in his chest was not easy to contain.

‘I’m glad you think so.’ Alex said, his voice tighter than it should have been, but as close to calm as it was going to get. His father seemed to notice something was off, but Alex wasn’t about to let him examine it too closely. ‘I should get back to this.’ He said, pointing at his laptop.

‘Yes, go do that. The sooner we know who their candidate is going to be, the sooner we can start tearing them down.’

**RE: Subject: Late night thoughts**

**Alex,**

**Don’t ever apologize for being a decent human being. It’s actually one of the things that I really, really like about you. You’re an opinionated little shit, and I admire that.**

**I am also sober now and mildly embarrassed about my email. I meant every word of it, but there’s desperate and there’s _Desperate_. Drunk me is apparently the second one. **

**I know you like musicals, and Isobel has been listening to nothing but the soundtrack of Newsies for the last three days. There’s a song which has the line “I never planned on someone like you” and I can’t get it out of my head. I didn’t have a solid plan for my life, but whichever ideas I did have, none of them had you in it. Probably because I do not have a great enough of an imagination to come up with someone as gorgeous, wonderful and smart like you are.**

**I hope you get your wish and I hope your father gets obliterated in the election. I’d offer to do something, but I can’t, and it pains me. I hope to find myself in the same country as you sooner rather than later.**

**Yours,**

**Michael**

Alex felt his first proper smile of the day spread over his face. He hated politics and things were getting serious now. The Democrats had finally selected their candidate and Alex loved her. Their best bet to go up against his father was Alexandra Diaz. The steely, barely forty five year old woman from Texas. Stony and unwavering. Also the daughter of immigrants, single, no kids. Alex could practically _see_ the attacking points his father would use.

This race was going to be played hard and dirty.

Alex wasn’t planning on letting the “love letter” thing become a regular thing. He had indulged drunk Michael, but it was all a little too 16th Century romance for him. That’s what he was telling himself at least. Still, he answered Michael’s texts and emails.

The headline of: WILL TEXAS FINALLY BECOME A BATTLE STATE? Had his father raging like he hadn’t raged in a while. Alex stayed stoic throughout the whole scene, unlike some other staffers who looked anywhere from disturbed to scared. His father didn’t notice. Mistake number one.

Jesse Manes refused to entertain the idea that this born and raised Texas woman would be able to sway the historically red state.

Kyle was there too, indifferent and calm. They shared a secretive smile on their way out of the room. Alex had let Kyle in on his plan, his Secret Dooms Day Plan. At first, Kyle had been hesitant. Unsure if the trouble would be worth it, but Alex was nothing if not convincing and Kyle ended up admitting it was a good strategy. Be prepared. Better to be safe than sorry and better to be paranoid than dead.

Alex kept his mouth shut unless asked. He’d been keeping a close eye on the polls in the South and honestly? His dad might actually have to work for the Southern States this election season. The Manes family may have come from New Mexico, but Texas, that’s where the true South was. She spoke their language.

All the commotion ignited something vicious in Alex’s stomach. Alex would _love_ to watch his father lose to this woman. He’d watched some of her speeches and she was feisty, didn’t take any bullshit and willing to go the extra mile. She even set up a campaign stop in Houston. A full on, full out, full blown rally. A speech in just about the biggest hall they could find.

When the reports came in that the line stretched around the block, Alex’s father was furious, he raged and raged and raged. Demanding to know how they’d let this happen?

Alex turned away and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!   
> The show Michael mentions a song from, Newsies, is honestly so good! 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!   
> (I almost wrote "comments make you squeal with delight" and I don't know, do they?)


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I have finished the story! It will be 28 chapters long and about 85k! I'll do some final read throughs before I post the chapters, but it is pretty much done! What a ride this has been! I'm so excited for you all to read the rest of it!

‘So, has your boy responded to your invite yet?’ Isobel asked as she waltzed into the music room. Michael was laying stretched out on the couch, spinning his phone between his fingers.

‘No.’

‘Uh oh, trouble in paradise?’ Isobel asked and Michael rolled his eyes.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. He’s busy.’ He said as she cut off the record that had been playing mid song. Michael chose not to comment.

‘Ah, so you _are_ in paradise?’

‘When he’s in the same country as I am, sure.’ Michael wasn’t pouting. He was just… moping. Fine, he was moping. Isobel looked at him over her shoulder.

‘Have you told him you’re in love with him yet?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’ Michael groaned, why did she always have to ask so many questions?

‘Because I don’t know if he feels the same way, and if he doesn’t it’s going to be embarrassing and he might not want to be with me anymore and I don’t want that.’

‘So you’re just going to say nothing? That seems like a plan.’ Isobel said sarcastically.

‘Leave me alone, Izzy.’

‘Oh dear, sweet brother o’ mine, we both know that’s not happening.’ She settled on the sofa across from him. ‘Is this about your sexuality crisis?’ Michael actually rolled his whole head at that.

‘No.’

‘Really? Because I remember a quite substantial freak out after you put your tongue in Alex’s mouth at that New Year’s party.’

‘What does that have to do with anything?’

‘You freaked out then, who knows what will happen if you tell him this.’ She said. ‘That’s the problem.’

‘Stop psychoanalyzing me.’

**Wimbledon? The Royal Box? I’m not royal.**

It wasn’t quite an answer, but it wasn’t a refusal either, which Michael would count as a win.

**No, thank god you’re not, otherwise this would be weird. You’d be my guest, obviously.**

**Obviously.**

**Have I mentioned lately that you are a scoundrel?**

**Scoundrel?**

**Word of the week.**

**I can’t stand you.**

Michael answered instead of saying something silly like “marry me”.

**Are you coming, or what?**

**Oh, I’m sure I’ll be coming.**

**And I’ll come to your fancy dress party.**

**I should tell you that I think tennis is boring.**

**You think everything that isn’t grown men tackling each other is boring.**

**Lies! Slander!**

**I like baseball too**

**Insufferable.**

**Word of warning, Max will be there.**

**Speaking off insufferable**

**That’s the future King of England you’re talking about**

**No, I’m talking about your brother**

Wimbledon was admittedly a spectacle that was about so much more than just tennis. It was about seeing and being seen. Hell, Michael was pretty sure he just walked past David Beckham. He was not quite sure how he ever missed the fact that he wasn’t straight.

Next to him Alex was a ball of uncharacteristically nervous energy.

‘What is up with you?’ Michael asked as they headed towards their box, eyes following them everywhere.

‘I feel like everyone’s looking at me. Am I underdressed?’ Alex asked, smoothing his hands down the front of his suit.

As if. Alex looked like a fucking dream in Tom Ford. Sleek and sexy. He looked like royalty. Better than royalty.

‘No.’ Michael leaned closer. ‘As far as I’m concerned you’re always wearing too many clothes.’ Alex threw him a sharp look, jabbing his elbow in Michael’s side.

‘You’d wanna share me with all these people?’ Alex said in a low voice as Michael nodded at where their seats should be. Michael didn’t have to consider that for very long.

‘No.’

‘Well, then I’m keeping my suit on. Yes?’

‘For now.’

‘Obviously.’

They found Isobel and Noah already in their seats and camera’s clicking the moment Michael and Alex appeared in view. Alex did that thing where he smiled, but didn’t really smile. They both leaned over and kissed Isobel’s cheek and shook Noah’s hand.

‘This is way too fucking fancy.’ Alex hissed as they sat down. Squeezing the words out through clenched teeth. ‘Are they going to try and feed me caviar? I’ve never had caviar, what if I hate it?’ His fingers bounced on his thigh in a nervous rhythm.

‘Relax.’ Michael said firmly. ‘No one is going to try and feed you caviar. Also, it sucks.’

‘Really? What does it taste like?’ Michael considered that for a second.

‘Defeat.’ That startled a real laugh out of Alex. Who bit his lip and tried to immediately stifle it, but his eyes sparkled and that was all Michael had really been going for.

Isobel cleared her throat. Michael stopped staring.

Even though Alex didn’t care about tennis, he did seem to know what was going on and for a while everything was nice. Warm. Cosy, almost, even though there were eyes on them constantly. Both of them were good at acting, playing games, pretending.

It wasn’t until Max arrived that the tension ramped up.

See, Max knew something was up. He was dense, not blind. He knew something was off, he just didn’t know what. However, as Max sat there next to Michael and smiled politely and made generic conversation with Alex, he just sort of seemed to see _something_. It was like he’d drank his smart-juice that morning. The tiny frown between his eyebrows was telling and it made Michael’s hands sweaty. Alex, who couldn’t read Max like Michael could, didn’t seem to notice.

Michael knew he had to get Alex away from Max’s suddenly sharp eyes.

‘C’mon, let’s get some air.’ Michael said, nudging Alex with his elbow. Alex tilted his head. It was a vague excuse to get out of there for a second but Alex shrugged.

‘Sure.’ He turned to Isobel. ‘Excuse us.’ She smirked.

‘Polite.’ She said with a sharp look at Michael who was already getting up. He didn’t roll his eyes, but it was close.

‘I’ve got to show you that not all Americans are heathens.’ Isobel let out an amused noise and Michael forced himself to move.

Alex followed him as he headed towards the inner parts of Wimbledon. Away from prying eyes and camera’s.

‘Where exactly are we going?’ Alex asked after a few minutes. They were seeing less and less people.

‘Exploring.’ Michael said, staying a few steps ahead of Alex.

‘That seems like a bad idea.’

‘Why? What is the worst we could find?’

‘Actual skeletons?’ Alex offered in an incredulous tone. ‘Hey.’ He could hear Alex’s steps speed up to catch up with Michael. ‘ _Hey_.’ He said again and a hand closed over Michael’s forearm, pulling him to a stop. ‘What’s going on?’ Alex looked properly concerned.

‘I just- Max kept _looking_ at you, and I freaked out a little.’

‘What, you think he’s into me too?’ Alex teased and Michael rolled his eyes.

‘Don’t be daft.’ Michael said. ‘I think he knows something.’

‘And that would be bad?’ Alex guessed.

‘Yes, of course. He’s _Max_.’ Alex raised his eyebrows as if to say “what?”. Michael sighed. Up ahead he spotted a door that looked like it lead nowhere. Perfect. He headed for that, he heard Alex grumble behind him, but also the sound of footsteps following him.

The door was unlocked and the room seemed to be some sort of storage. There were lightly dusty chairs, like the ones they’d been sitting on, a pool table, a few regular tables.

‘Okay, is this the part where you kill me and they never find my body?’ Alex asked, hints of annoyance in his voice as he crossed his arms. Michael closed the door behind them. It didn’t lock, but it was good enough.

He stepped closer to Alex, putting his hand on his arm to uncross them. The other hand reached up to brush his hair off his forehead. He didn’t miss the way Alex swallowed, any trace of annoyance disappeared in a heartbeat.

‘They would totally find your body here.’ Michael said and Alex huffed out a laugh. ‘Also, I love Max, and I know he loves me, but he’s old school. I don’t want to- I don’t- I-‘

‘You don’t want to deal with it?’ Alex offered.

‘I don’t know.’ Michael sighed. ‘I guess I’m just- scared he won’t be able to look at me the same again.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Alex said firmly. ‘If he really loves you, truly, he’ll get over himself and if he doesn’t, fuck him.’

They were still close enough that Michael didn’t have to move much to kiss Alex. What did it all matter anyways? No one had clearly been here in ages. Alex’s kisses, as usual, send fire racing through his veins. Alex’s hands send sparks running up and down his spine and he really, really wanted to do something stupid.

It must have been written all over his face.

‘Let’s go back to Kensington, yes?’ Alex said. ‘Tennis is boring.’

Kensington, right. Where he had a bed. Not a dusty, stuffy storage room somewhere underneath Wimbledon where anyone could walk in on them at any time. Smart.

It was Alex’s second time in his rooms, but the first time he actually seemed to pay attention.

‘How do you live in this?’ He asked. ‘It’s like living in a museum. Did you choose any of this?’ Well, that was quite the question.

‘No.’ Michael answered before pulling Alex in for a deep, heated kiss. He didn’t want to deal with tough questions right now.

After, they got dressed again, in different clothes (regrettably, that wonderful Tom Ford was quite wrinkled now) and drifted to the music room. Alex sat down at the piano.

‘Play me something I don’t know.’ Michael asked and they sat there, for what felt like minutes but turned out to be hours as Alex played, and then Michael played the guitar and they bickered over the difference between Bach and Beethoven.

‘So, the prince that played Wonderwall, is that going to be your legacy?’ Alex asked, his smile was soft and warm and Michael would have told him anything he wanted.

‘I hope not. At least, not just that.’ Michael said, putting the guitar back in its stand. ‘I think about that a lot. How I’ll be remembered.’

‘Me too.’ Alex said, swallowing away something nervous.

Michael didn’t realize what time it was until it was too late and Max came marching in.

‘Michael where the hell-‘ Max just sort of stopped as the door fell shut behind him. He looked between Michael and Alex and then back again. They weren’t even doing anything. Alex was back behind the piano and Michael was sitting next to him. ‘Oh good God.’ Max said.

‘What?’ Michael asked, trying to subtly shift out of Alex’s personal space.

‘You’re _sleeping with him_ , and here I was thinking you were getting into international relations.’ Max hissed, throwing his hands up in the air. Alex was very still, looking between Max and Michael.

‘Well, technically I am-‘ Michael tried, using humour in inappropriate situations was one of his worst habits, one he usually managed to suppress.

‘Stop talking.’ Max snapped.

‘I should give you two a minute.’ Alex said, making motions to stand up.

‘No.’ Max snapped. Alex got up anyways, slowly and with narrowed eyes.

‘Don’t talk to me like that.’ Alex said the same second Michael said:

‘Do not talk to him like that.’

Max looked between the two of them again, eyes still narrowed. His breathing was that stupid, controlled thing he did when he was unsure of what to do next.

‘What the hell, Michael?’ Max asked. ‘I thought you were straight? You were sleeping with girls all over the place when you were in university.’ Alex actually groaned as Michael rolled his eyes.

‘Jesus Christ Max, it’s 2020, sexuality isn’t as black and white as that. I’m bisexual.’ Saying it out loud like that, to his brother, was fucking scary, but he wasn’t about to let his brother’s outdated views put him in some kind of box he didn’t want to be in.

‘And you?’ He asked Alex, who’d crossed his arms and was all but glaring at Max.

‘None of your goddamn business.’ Shit, Michael loved him.

‘Seriously, Michael? I thought you hated him?’

‘Well, I clearly don’t.’ Michael said, crossing his arms as well.

‘This is ridiculous and _stupid_.’ Max snapped. ‘For God’s sake Michael, get your head out of the clouds and think about this. What if people found out?’

‘Well if they all react like you do it’s gonna fucking suck.’ Alex said. Okay, this might be the moment to get Alex out of there.

‘Alex, could you give me and my brother a minute?’ Michael asked.

‘Do I have to?’ Alex asked. Huh, willing to argue with a future King for Michael, nice.

‘Please?’

‘Fine.’ Alex huffed, glaring at Max as he headed out of the room.

‘Michael?’ Max pressed the moment the door fell shut behind Alex. ‘How long has this been going on?’

‘Since New Year’s, so about seven months.’ Michael said after a quick calculation. Michael kept talking before Max could start again. ‘This is not some hook-up that I’ll have forgotten about tomorrow, Max.’ He said, keeping his arms firmly crossed so he wouldn’t fiddle with the ring on his pinkie. ‘This is something real, and I’m not giving it up. Not for you, not for the Crown.’ He made sure to keep his cool as he stood up and headed out of the door.

He couldn’t sit there and watch the confusion on Max’s face. Was it really that hard to believe Michael genuinely cared about someone else?

After a goodbye kiss that was leagues softer than it should have been, Alex left that night. Michael refused to eat with Max. Yasir finally caved when he realized Michael was Serious. He convinced the cook to let Michael eat dinner in his rooms.

The next day, Michael found himself cornered by Isobel and Max. He tried to get away, but Izzy wouldn’t let him. They lead him to a room where there was a laptop set up on a table, Isobel pushed Michael down onto a chair and she took a seat somewhere behind him.

‘So, I have been told that my initial reaction to the newfound… revelations was insensitive,’ Max started, steeling himself as he clicked the laptop screen on. ‘so I’ve done my research and I’ve made a PowerPoint.’

‘You’ve made a-‘ Michael cast his eyes to the sky and continued in a whisper. ‘He made a PowerPoint.’ The first slide read: EXPLORING YOUR SEXUALITY: GREAT, BUT DOES IT HAVE TO BE WITH THE FSOTUS?

‘So, we’ll start here.’ Max said, firmly sticking to formal.

‘God, if you’re up there, kill me now.’ Michael said, behind him, Isobel sounded like she was having the time of her life.

It was horrific and embarrassing and Michael hadn’t blushed this much in a _long_ time. When Max got to the slide that said: SAFE SEX: ARE YOU TAKING THE NECESSARY PRECAUTIONS? With actual, honest to god, pictures of condoms and lube underneath it, Michael couldn’t handle it anymore.

‘No.’ He said firmly, getting up. ‘I am- no- this is enough. I am leaving now.’ Isobel’s cackle followed him from the room as he fled. He fled back to his rooms, Yasir caught up with him halfway.

‘Are you okay?’ He asked. ‘You look a little flushed.’

‘I do _not_ want to talk about it.’

‘Ah, so Maxwell went through with the PowerPoint idea, didn’t he?’

‘You _knew_?’ Michael whirled around. ‘You could have saved me from this and you didn’t? Who _are_ you? You’re supposed to protect me from emotional scarring like this!’

‘You are clearly feeling overly dramatic right now. Let’s get you some food.’

‘Hey, _hey_ , don’t treat me like I am in a damn Snickers commercial.’ Michael said as Yasir (with endless patience) moved him into his rooms.

‘Stop acting like a brat, and I will.’ Yasir said pointedly. ‘Your brother meant well.’

‘I know that, doesn’t mean it wasn’t mortifying. He had a slide on safe sex, Yasir. _Safe sex_. He’s my brother.’ Yasir sighed.

‘Alright, I’ll admit that is a little much.’ Michael threw his hands to the side, like saying “exactly”. Yasir pulled his phone from his pocket.

‘What are you doing?’ Michael asked. Yasir just always sort of seemed to make things happen with the power of his mind, he didn’t remember ever seeing Yasir use a phone before.

‘I am texting Oliver so he can tell your consort that you and your brother are fine.’

‘We are _not_ fine, and he’s not my con- hold on, you and Oliver _text_?’ Michael changed subjects mid-sentence, whatever Yasir could deal with it. He sighed.

‘Yes we do.’

‘I don’t know how I feel about that.’ Michael said.

‘Am I not allowed to have friends?’ Yasir asked with a raised eyebrow that spelled he already knew the answer.

‘Of course you are, just why-‘ Michael waved his hand around vaguely.

‘Why the bodyguard of your beloved?’

‘Would you stop calling him that?’ Michael asked, a little weakly as he could feel his cheeks heat up.

‘What would you rather I call him?’ Yasir asked, clearly able to see the blush on Michael’s cheeks. Was he really that damn obvious? If he was, how had Alex not seen it yet?

‘Alex?’ Michael offered with a desperate smile. ‘That is his name.’

‘Is that what _you_ call him?’ Yasir asked, moving to the coffee machine. Michael followed automatically. Was- was he _teasing_ Michael?

‘Are you _teasing_ me?’ Michael asked. Yasir turned to him with a smile. One of his more genuine ones.

‘Michael, I’ve known you since you were a child and I’ve never seen you react to someone the way you react to Alex Manes.’ Yasir said. ‘Right from the start I could tell this was something different. He means something to you, and there’s not many people on this planet that do that. He makes you _feel_ something and isn’t that what we all want in the end?’

‘So, what are you saying?’ Michael asked, it was a nice sentiment and Michael wouldn’t pretend that it didn’t make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He just didn’t know what to _do_ with any of this.

‘Well, personally I’m married to my job, you know that. However, you are still young. He makes you happy. Maybe you should tell him that.’

‘What makes you think I haven’t?’ Yasir let out a short huff.

‘The way he looks at you.’ He said with a vague little smile. ‘Like you’re a puzzle he just can’t quite solve.’ Yasir stepped forward and put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. ‘Take a leap of faith, kid.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Eighteen on Friday, which I'm pretty sure contains the most romantic shit I've ever written. 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we are with the most romantic shit I've ever written! Love Letters, baby!

‘Okay.’ Oliver opened with and Alex knew that tone. Uh oh. ‘Listen up.’ It was his “I really don’t want to do this, but I’m going to do it anyways” tone. ‘You’re in love with Michael, yes?’

‘Uh, what?’ Alex said. It was 8am, they were in North Carolina for the RNC and Alex wasn’t wearing a shirt yet, debating between the plain white one and the pale blue one. He should wear the plain white, wearing blue to the RNC was a bad idea.

He picked up the pale blue shirt.

‘Just level with me here.’

‘You know the answer already.’

‘Yes, but I want to hear you say it.’ Oliver said firmly. ‘I’m risking my job here, I need to hear you say it.’ The wave of guilt was so overwhelming Alex didn’t stand a chance at hiding it. Oliver’s face softened. ‘Stop it with that, that’s not how I meant it. I am a grown man and I’ve pretty much known from the start, I just want to make sure you know what you want here.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Alex, we’re getting really close to the elections now, there will be more and more cameras around. Is this a forever kind of thing?’

Forever?

Love?

He wasn’t prepared for this.

‘I- I-‘

‘Can you imagine your future without him in it?’ Oliver asked.

Could he? Sure, there were futures without Michael in them, but they all sucked. Most of them involved staying in Washington, going to Harvard, getting roped into his father’s business even more, maybe politics. Alex hated politics.

But with Michael, he could maybe move to the UK? They had law schools there, right? Or maybe he could do something else, get a job in cybersecurity. And, Michael’s brother even knew now, and according to Michael’s texts while it had been a horrifying conversation, they were cool now, and Max would keep his mouth shut.

‘Yeah, but they all suck.’

‘Tell him that please.’ Oliver said, sighing as he motioned down at Alex’s shirt. He hadn’t even really realized he’d been buttoning it wrong. Alex started over, using it as an excuse to not look at Oliver.

‘But what if he doesn’t feel the same way?’ He asked his stomach. Or what if he does? Wasn’t that an even scarier option?

‘Kid, do you trust me?’ Alex had to look up at that.

‘Of course.’

‘He does.’ Oliver said firmly. ‘He feels the same way, it’s written all over his face and I think you know that.’ Oliver handed him his tie, dark blue. ‘You’re cautious, and that’s okay, but if this is real, if this is a forever kind of thing, take a leap of faith.’

‘I hate not knowing what’s going to happen.’ Alex said as he tied his tie.

‘I know, but you can’t prepare for everything.’ Alex sighed, long and deep.

‘Isn’t, what, seven months too soon for… love?’ Alex asked, praying the answer might be yes.

‘Sometimes all it really takes is one look, one kiss, one conversation. I know you’re young, but the way I see it, what you two have is special.’ Yeah. Even if Oliver was wrong about the other things, he was right about that. If only Alex could convince the rational part of his brain that it wasn’t going to end in disaster and heartache.

ALEX MANES WEARS BLUE TO THE RNC: COINCIDENCE OR HIDDEN MESSAGE?

Alex knew he shouldn’t have worn blue to the RNC, his father was livid, Alex swore up and down that he hadn’t even thought about it that way (a lie) as Harvey watched him with badly concealed exasperation. “No one else thought about it that way either!” Alex had tried, which send his father on another tirade, questioning who even gave Alex the _option_ to wear blue.

House arrest.

Like he was fourteen all over again. His father almost took his phone, but changed his mind on that when Harvey said Alex had to have his phone on him at all times according to some of the rules of the secret service. 

The stylist that had let Alex choose between blue and not blue was fired and Alex felt a little guilty for that. If he’d just behaved, she would still have a job.

Being trapped in his near silent wing of the White House (Hunter was out on the campaign trail), did manage to make Alex go slightly stir crazy. No one was allowed to visit Alex. Not even Kyle. So Alex was stuck with email and text and time, just bucketloads of time. Especially because his father took all of his campaign tasks away from him too, hissing about how he wasn’t sure if he could trust him with them.

He was trying to punish Alex with that, but little did he know.

**Subject: Losing my mind**

**M,**

**Wearing blue to the Republican Convention is apparently a crime worthy of house arrest. Yes, you read that right _house arrest_. I am 21 years old and being held in the White House against my will. Can’t you send a team of super spies to come save me or something? **

**Since I am not allowed to touch anything of the campaign anymore until my father decides to lift my ban on social interaction, all I’ve been doing is re-reading Harry Potter, practicing my French (mon amour) and overanalysing Broadway lyrics.**

**See, in Dear Evan Hansen, there’s a song called Waving Through a Window, and I’m feeling that on a personal level right now. Here are some of the lyrics:**

**“ _On the outside always looking in, will I ever be more than I’ve always been? ‘Cause I’m tap, tap, tapping on the glass, waving through a window. Try to speak, but nobody can hear, so I wait around for an answer to appear, while I’m watch, watch, watching people pass. I’m waving through a window. Can anybody see, is anybody waving back at me?_ ” **

**It made me think of you, of us, of our interrupted conversation about legacy, about being remembered. How will we go down in history? Will anyone remember us? And for what? Will I just be the son of the President that tore this country apart? Will I be the guy who stood by and let it happen?**

**When did we let other people decide who we are and what the world is allowed to see of us? We never had that choice, did we? It has just always been that way. Well, I’m tired.**

**You want to make history, huh? I bet we could make some.**

**I want to see you again, soon.**

**Yours,**

**Alex**

The other thing his father hadn’t taken into account, was that Alex could still access his campaign email and the server. Bad cybersecurity. So between learning how to ask for directions to the pool in French (où est la piscine?) and driving himself insane, he also gathered some more… intel for his files.

**RE: Subject: Losing my mind**

**Alex,**

**I remember mentioning this a while ago, but the idea of having to wait for an actual physical letter to arrive pains me almost as much as not being able to be there with you. I’d lock myself in your rooms with you if I didn’t think that would start a second American/English war (we’d totally win this time).**

**Can you imagine that? Me being there with you? Would that make it better, or would you get tired of me, annoyed by me and try to stab me with a letter opener? (Do people still own those?) I would hope not.**

**If you can steal words from music than so can I. I’ll quote A Star Is Born (Isobel forced me to watch it a few days ago):**

**“I’m off the deep end, watch as I dive in. I’ll never meet the ground. Crash through the surface, where they can’t hurt us, we’re far from the shallow now.”**

**I’ve always loved swimming. The quiet under the water has always been a feeling I longed for. The only place where my mind would go quiet, where the world and my problems seemed to disappear. You are that for me. The quiet. The calm. This place where I can just be me.**

**Max, Isobel and I are going to the holiday home in Greece, you could join us. It’s ridiculously luxurious, basically a private island, but it could be nice? I can picture you now, in the sun, swim trunks, on a boat. Maybe Liz would like to come? We could make it a group trip and bring Maria and Kyle too? Get the whole gang together (and Max).**

**Yours,**

**Michael**

**RE: Subject: Losing my mind**

**M,**

**Don’t be ridiculous, if you were here I would never want to leave. (Also, you would totally lose that war and you know it)**

**I have never been much of a swimmer. There’s a reason my brothers all joined the Air Force, not the Navy. I’m pretty sure my dad doesn’t know how to swim and that he’s afraid of water. I do know how to swim, but maybe the fear is just… in my DNA?**

**Personally, I love the desert (I know, shocker, I grew up there after all). I love that the desert doesn’t care who you are. Sinner or saint, the desert will not care, she’ll try to kill you either way. That got morbid. Well, also, I love the openness of it. The unforgiving nature, the stars: Oh Michael, the stars! I promise you have never seen as many stars as you can see on a clear New Mexican night.**

**You compare me to the water. I’ll compare you to the stars. Endless and comforting. Like a big blanket of tiny little reminders that whatever I am going through, there is an immense universe out there that doesn’t care. Maybe that’s not how normal people see it, but with this life, this sense of always been watched, feeling like you’re insignificant can be… soothing. At least, it is to me. You make all of those stupid insecurities fade away. I know I shouldn’t, but then you smile at me and I am lost again. Lost between the stars and I don’t want to find my way back.**

**Either way, a trip to a Greek island with you, your siblings and my best friends? How could I possibly say no? Maybe have Yasir contact Oliver with the details? He can handle Harvey, I don’t want to deal with him right now. I hope my father will lift my house arrest. I’m sure a request from the prince will get him to release me. Fingers crossed?**

**Yours,**

**Alex**

**P.S. Nightingale- Demi Lovato**

**“Can you be my nightingale? Sing to me, I know you're there. You could be my sanity, bring me peace, sing me to sleep. Say you'll be my nightingale.”**

It was, without a doubt, the sappiest, most lovey-dovey thing Alex had ever written in his life. He _blushed_ as he typed out the words. But it was easier like this, when he could think it through, delete and rewrite. He didn’t have to find the right words immediately.

**RE: Subject: Losing my mind**

**Alex,**

**I am a terrible singer, but for you I will.**

The first line of Michael’s reply made Alex’s heart trip in his chest and he tried, he really did, not to let it get to his head, but fucking hell Michael loved him back, didn’t he?

**If your father doesn’t want to let you go, I might have to send those spies to take you after all. I’m sure MI6 has people that can do that.**

**There will be a lot of water, but it’s clear and warm and I will save you if you need it. Think of how romantic that would be! Not that I need the excuse of you nearly drowning to put my mouth on yours, and drowning is supposed to be horrible, so I take that back. (Look at me, talking about drowning to a guy who’s afraid of water, nice going)**

**You talk about my smile. I’ll talk about that thing you do where you try not to smile, but your eyes sparkle (I swear you’re a Disney princess) and every time you do that I lose a little more of my heart to you.**

**I’d love to see the stars in New Mexico, does your family still own a house in the town you grew up in? Did you ever own a truck? We could drive one out into the desert and sit on the back to watch the sunset.**

**Can you ride? A horse I mean, I know you can ride other things (I wanted to delete this, I really did, but I can’t make myself do it), we could take them out into the desert too. Camp out? Go all Brokeback Mountain, without the sad ending obviously. The list of things I want to do with you is endless and I miss you so much it keeps getting longer. It’s not even just how much I want to kiss you and see how long I can keep that mark on your hip there, I want to go places with you. I want you to show me New Mexico and maybe Washington, LA, Boston, I want you to try and explain to me how American Football is called _foot_ ball if you play 90% of it with your hands and I want to bicker over Beethoven versus Bach. I want it all. **

**Yours,**

**Michael.**

**P.S.**

**“It ain't much I'm asking, I heard him say. Gotta find me a future move out of my way.”**

His father looked immensely suspicious when the invitation of Michael got through, like Alex had instigated this to get out of the house, which wasn’t entirely true, but not entirely false either. Alex really, really wanted to go. Liz honest to god screeched when Alex invited her, Kyle grinned and clapped his hand on Alex’s shoulder and Maria smiled softly at him and told him she’d love to go with him.

He’d finally, sort of officially told her about him and Michael. She rolled her eyes and told him she’d known for months, but she was glad he told her anyways. The trip to Greece made up for a lot.

In fact, they met up with all of them in Washington before their flight to London. From London they’d fly to Greece with the royals private plane. Lounging on his bed with his three closest friends was a luxury Alex didn’t get much.

‘So, what should I know before we head over there?’ Maria asked, taking a big sip of her wine.

‘One: Alex is completely in love with the prince. Two: The other prince is hot, but a little uptight. Three: The princess is fun and always up for mischief.’ Liz said, counting on her fingers with a grin. Alex made a face.

‘You think Max is hot? Gross.’ Alex said shaking his head.

‘Uh yes, as far as I’m concerned, you got the wrong brother mijo.’ Liz said with a smirk. ‘But honestly, nah, I wouldn’t want to date a royal. It sounds super complicated.’

‘Especially when you’re Alex.’ Kyle said. ‘But hey, I’m sure the sex is great.’

‘Ew, oh my god K, can you not say stuff like that?’ Alex asked, as Liz and Maria cackled.

‘What? Forbidden stuff is supposed to be hot, right?’ Kyle tried, which send Maria and Liz into giggles. Alex put his hands in front of his face and groaned.

‘Can I still uninvite you?’

‘Nope.’ Kyle said happily.

‘You better behave or I will throw you off the boat.’ Alex threatened, pointing his finger at all three of them.

‘Wait, there’s a boat?’ Maria asked, perking up.

‘Yeah, it’s like, a private island.’ Alex said, Kyle quickly followed it up with:

‘They’re royalty, of course they own a boat.’

‘It’s still a little hard to believe that they own an _island_.’ Liz said, folding her hands behind her head as she laid back against Alex’s mountain of pillows.

‘I think their mother technically owns it, but yeah, it’s insane.’ Alex agreed.

‘Have you ever met their mother?’ Kyle asked, taking a sip of his beer. Alex nodded.

‘Yeah, way back when I first met Michael.’ Alex tilted his head. ‘I remember thinking she was a little scary, but that may have just been the whole crown situation.’ Alex shrugged. ‘Oh did I tell you what Oliver asked me?’

‘The whole “is this forever” questioning?’ Kyle asked. ‘Yeah you went on a fifteen minute rant about how fucking embarrassing it was.’ Alex rolled his eyes.

‘It was _not_ fifteen minutes. Maybe ten.’ More laughs. ‘And it was horrible, it’s like your dad giving you the sex talk.’ Liz _awed_.

‘You think of Oliver as your dad? That’s so sweet.’ Maria nodded like she completely agreed. Alex threw his head back.

‘I hate you all. Why are you my friends?’

‘Hey!’ Kyle said, insulted. ‘What did I do?’

‘You _laughed_.’ Alex said with a pointed look. Kyle spluttered some more but didn’t argue. ‘On a more serious note though,’ Alex said and all of them turned serious right away. _This_ was why they were his friends. ‘I am nervous about this.’

‘Alex, I say this with the utmost confidence: Everything will be fine.’ Kyle said smiling warmly at him.

‘Yes, we’ll be there. We’re just going to have some fun.’ Maria added.

‘Yes, we won’t let you drown.’ Liz finished off their little circle of positive energy.

Alex supposed he just had to believe in them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE! Do you still have teeth? Cavities? Do you still like me?   
> Sunday we'll go to the island! 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUBS AND HOLLY!
> 
> We're going to Greece!

Alex and his friends arrived at their private airstrip with an air of pure joy. A gaggle of laughter, shorts and music coming from a hot pink phone dangling from Kyle’s backpack. Michael recognized the song: _Summer of ’69_ , it made him grin.

Liz and Maria went for Isobel first, completely ignoring any sort of protocols as the three of them made excited noises and exchanged hugs. Michael was so happy Isobel had made friends. Kyle went to introduce himself to Max with a pointed look at Alex.

Alex was a vision, as always. Shorts showing off those ridiculous legs, the pale green shirt he was wearing stretched over his shoulders and the sunglasses pushed into his hair, bag over his shoulder made him look like summer dream. It was not actually that warm in London, but none of them seemed to notice.

Alex stepped into his space and wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck. Michael allowed himself to bury his nose in the spot behind Alex’s ear.

‘Hi love.’ He said, softly, privately and Alex shivered.

‘Hi.’ He said as he pulled back, blush high on his cheeks and eyes sparkling. Michael was going to tell him. This trip he would tell him he loved him. How could he not?

‘Hi Alex.’ Isobel said with a grin as she sidled in and hugged Alex. He let out a soft laugh.

‘Hi Isobel.’

‘Hello Alex.’ Max looked tense and unsure. Michael was pretty sure that Liz had introduced Maria. The last time Max and Alex had been in the same room hadn’t gone too great.

‘Max.’ Alex said as one corner of his mouth quirked up. He held out a hand for Max. ‘Thank you for the invite.’

‘Of course.’ Max said quickly. ‘I am looking forward to this.’ As much as Michael had been hesitant to tell Max and horrified when he found out, Max _was_ trying.

‘So are we.’ Alex said.

As they headed onto the plane the song switched over into _Livin’ on a prayer_. Alex made an excited noise as he flopped into the seat next to Michael.

‘I love this song.’ Michael said with a smile as Alex tapped his fingers along to the drums. He turned to Michael with a grin.

‘Me too.’ He nodded at Kyle. ‘He spend hours on this playlist. There’s always a war between the four of us over the music when we travel.’ Alex was almost vibrating with excitement. ‘After this I’m heading to New Mexico, dad wants me to check on the old house.’

‘You’re happy to get out of the White House, aren’t you?’ Michael asked and Alex was nodding before he even finished the sentence.

‘ _So_ happy.’ His grin turned into a smirk. ‘Saved by Prince Charming.’

‘ _Your_ Prince Charming.’

‘ _My_ Prince Charming.’

‘Are you two going to be disgusting like this all trip long?’ Kyle asked with a long-suffering sigh. Alex flipped him off without looking.

‘I can do what I want asshole.’ Alex said, smiling happily at Kyle. Kyle rolled his eyes.

‘Unreal.’

‘Are you sure you two are friends?’ Max asked with a confused tilt to his head.

‘Oh yeah.’ Alex said easily. ‘Best friends.’ Maria and Liz gasped in synch.

‘Ouch.’

‘Oh come on, don’t be like that.’ Alex whined. ‘I’ve known Kyle the longest, we’ve been over this.’

‘More than once.’ Kyle added.

All in all, as the plane carried them to warmer weather, they were a bundle of warmth and Americanisms and familiarity. They talked and laughed and sang along to the music and Michael put his hand on Alex’s leg and didn’t have to worry about removing it. Alex talked with his hands when he was excited. Alex had never been to Greece before. Alex _loved_ this song.

Alex really only went kind of quiet as they got on the boat that would bring them to the island. Tension appeared between his shoulders and his fingers picked up a rhythm that was off from the music.

The island was, admittedly, one of the more outrageous things they owned (that wasn’t a castle). It wasn’t a huge island, but the house build on it was big enough to easily house the seven of them, even with Alex and Michael sharing. The beach was mere feet from the backdoor, the water bright blue and the sunshine was near blinding.

‘This looks like paradise.’ Maria said with awe in her voice. Kyle’s mouth was open as he nodded.

‘Put our bags inside and head for a swim?’ Isobel suggested. There were noises of agreement and then the sound of feet heading into the house. Michael stayed put, soaking in the sun and the soft breeze for a little while longer. He knew Alex was still there too.

‘We could go for a swim, or we could go for a proper reunion first?’ Alex said and Michael could feel the smile spread over his face.

‘Have I told you that you have the best ideas?’ Michael asked, turning to him. Alex pulled one shoulder up in a shrug, smile curling along his lips.

‘C’mon Your Highness, show me the sights of this place.’

Michael showed him exactly two rooms. The living room which they had to pass through to get to the stairs and the master (which he’d fought his siblings for). The view was fucking spectacular. Just blue, blue, blue water, white cliffs, sunshine.

Alex looked at it for maybe a second before pulling Michael in for a heated kiss. He bit at Michael’s bottom lip, licked into his mouth. Michael could just hold on for the ride as Alex kissed the hell out of him. There was an extra layer to his kisses now, or maybe it was just Michael projecting, but he was pretty sure their most recent emails had changed something.

It seemed like their friends understood they needed a minute, because no one bothered them as Michael kissed his way down Alex’s chest after peeling him out of that shirt. Alex was _writhing_ underneath him. Michael nipped at that spot on Alex’s hip he loved so much, soothing it with his tongue after.

‘Good God Michael, if you leave a mark there I will never live it down.’ Alex managed, taking hitched breaths between words as Michael worked his shorts off his legs.

‘Do shut up, darling.’ Michael said as he scraped his teeth over the skin again. He was totally leaving a mark there. It was his favourite spot and it never failed to make Alex squirm on whichever surface he was on.

Once they made it out of the bedroom, Max could barely look them in the eye, but that wasn’t really unusual, he could never do that if Michael had girls around either. So he wasn’t taking it personally. Alex did, in fact, have a mark on his hip and he rolled his eyes when Liz whistled. Michael couldn’t help but look a little smug. Alex was hesitant to get in the water, but the beach sloped gently and Michael coaxed him into the water slowly.

He was not a bad swimmer, but Michael could tell he was nervous. He stayed where his feet could touch the bottom and mostly sat in the baby waves near the house watching the others as they played around in the water. He didn’t look unhappy though. He was smiling softly watching his friends mess around.

‘Next time we’ll go to the desert.’ Michael said as he swam up next to Alex. He tried to make sure that his hair didn’t look totally ridiculous, but that wasn’t easy with wet curls, and judging by Alex’s face, it wasn’t working.

‘Deal.’ Alex said easily. ‘It’s beautiful here.’

‘You’re beautiful.’ Michael said, earning him a completely unimpressed look from Alex.

‘Do shut up, darling.’ He said in his terrible impression of Michael’s accent. He laughed and leaned back on his elbows. The sand was warm under his skin and he did feel a little bit like they were in paradise.

‘So, you want to put some sunscreen on my shoulders?’ Michael asked. Alex raised two eyebrows at him.

‘No. I hate getting sunscreen on my hands.’ Michael made an insulted face.

‘You’d let me get sunburned because you don’t like getting goo on your hands?’

‘Don’t-‘ Alex frowned. ‘Don’t use that word, I don’t like it.’ Michael tilted his head.

‘What word?’

‘Goo, I hate that word.’ That send Michael into a laughing fit that landed him a stitch in his side. Somewhere between his giggles, Alex did put more sunscreen on his shoulders, Michael gave him a quick peck on the lips for it. This side of the island was aimed at the ocean, no one could see them here, not even the most dedicated pap would be able to get a shot of them from this distance.

They had dinner, cooked by Liz who was apparently a pretty stellar cook. Admittedly, the food was amazing. They got tipsy on the supply of beers and the sangria that Liz made. Alex laughed as him and Isobel bickered over the best emo band of the last decade. Alex won and Michael was so in love it hurt a little.

They sat on the beach as the sun went down and Alex, the absolute legend, brought his brother’s old guitar. He handed it to Michael with a grin.

‘C’mon Your Highness. Play me a song.’ He said, leaning back in the sand on his elbows. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt and he looked like a dream bathed in gold sunlight. Michael played Wonderwall because he was an asshole like that.

It set off a chorus of tipsy renditions off the song, even Max sang along. Michael didn’t even remember the last time he’d felt this comfortable with a group of people.

When they finally headed to bed (after a long, thorough shower to get sand out of places sand should not be), Alex tucked his face into the crook of Michael’s neck and let out a soft little exhale.

‘Thank you. I really needed this.’ He said into the dark.

‘No problem.’ Michael smiled. ‘I am your Prince Charming, after all.’ Alex’s huff of breath brushed against his neck, Alex’s fingers didn’t stop tracing patterns over his skin.

‘Insufferable.’ Alex mumbled before snuggling even closer. Michael could hear his breathing even out.

Michael woke up the next morning with sunlight in his face, the nice thump-thump of a hangover headache (mild though) and no Alex. He could also smell breakfast. He put on some sweatpants and headed down the stairs. In the kitchen, dancing to _Viva la Vida,_ next to a truly impressive amount of pancakes was Alex, wearing just his swim shorts and an apron. Michael’s mouth watered at the smell (and the wide, tanned expanse of Alex’s back).

‘Good morning.’ Alex turned, his smile bright.

‘Morning. There’s pancakes, help yourself.’ He turned back to the stove, flipping his latest pancake expertly.

‘Oh I will.’ Michael said, stepping closer and sliding his hands along Alex’s sides, to his stomach underneath the apron. Alex twitched as Michael’s fingers slipped over that tickly spot underneath his ribs. He kissed the back of Alex’s neck.

‘Have you brushed your teeth?’ Alex asked, stern tone to his voice.

‘No.’ Michael mumbled, more to the skin of Alex’s shoulder than anything.

‘That means no kisses for you, heathen.’ Alex shrugged Michael’s hands off, despite his whines as Alex put his latest creation on the pile. Michael pouted as he dragged himself back upstairs to brush his teeth. He also changed into his swim shorts, because he did not want to go up the stairs again.

When he got back downstairs, Isobel, Liz and Kyle had also appeared. They were already at the table, happily eating from Alex’s giant pile of food.

‘So they’re edible?’ He asked, even as Isobel put an inordinate amount of syrup on her pancakes. She nodded enthusiastically. Her hair was up in a messy bun, no make-up and just an oversized t-shirt and shorts on her. She looked happy.

‘Absolutely. I vote you marry him.’ She said, pointing her fork at Alex. Michael ignored the spark of “oh yes I want that” and focused on first things first: I love you.

‘You want him to marry me just because I can cook breakfast?’ Alex asked, amused as he leaned his hip against the counter, cup of coffee in his hands. Michael approached him, more milk than coffee, of course, and he had the audacity to call _Michael_ a heathen.

‘I brushed my teeth.’ He said in a low voice as Liz and Isobel chattered away.

‘Congratulations.’ Alex said with a smirk as Max shuffled into the kitchen. He looked more rumpled than Michael ever remembered seeing him. His hair was a mess and he was still dressed in pyjama pants and an old ratty t-shirt. Isobel looked highly amused too.

Michael set his hand on the counter behind Alex, dragging his nose along Alex’s cheekbone. Alex let out a soft breath. The soft scratch of Alex’s stubble under his lips as he kissed his cheek made him smile.

‘Go eat something.’ Alex said, probably going for firm, but it came out much more breathless. That made Michael happy enough to accept going to have breakfast before getting kisses.

They took the boat out (if Michael ignored the boat with security following them, it almost felt like they were normal). Just a bunch of kids on holiday having fun. Yasir was actually on the ship with them, as he was piloting the boat. They played music, laughed, had a few drinks. They even took a few pictures with the unspoken understanding they were not to be put on any social media. Max even managed to smile (he was tipsy again) as Liz and Maria kissed his cheek from each side as a giggling Alex took a picture with what Michael recognized as _Kyle’s_ phone.

Everything was warm and mellow. It felt like the whole world was a little softer like this. Far away from the White House and the Crown and cameras and expectations. Everyone that was near them knew and they didn’t have to hide. That was the best part about the whole thing, especially in the house, if he wanted to, Michael could kiss Alex without having to look over his shoulder first.

Their second night there, as everyone else had retreated to their rooms and Alex was tucked into Michael’s side, he could tell Alex wasn’t asleep yet. Apparently, Alex could tell the same.

‘You awake?’ He whispered.

‘Of course.’

‘C’mon.’ Alex said, slipping from the bed. What else could Michael do but follow? They snuck out onto the little beach at the back of the house. Michael wanted to strip and dive in the water, but Alex just flopped down on the sand. The moon was nearly full and it bathed Alex in an almost ethereal pale light. Like some kind of old Greek God come to life. Michael sat down next to him.

‘After the elections, once your father loses, we should come back here. Just the two of us.’ Michael said into the night. The tiny waves lapped at the sand in soft rushing sounds. Far, far away in the distance, Michael though he could maybe hear the sounds of the nearest town. A party maybe.

‘Wouldn’t that be suspicious?’ Alex asked. Michael hadn’t meant to, but he’d seen the article anyways, talking about the Buckingham Three taking a vacation with four American friends. They’d been discreet, and still they knew, if it was just him and Alex-

‘Would that matter?’ Michael asked, even though he knew the answer. It did matter, it would always matter, but couldn’t they leave logic out of it for a bit and just dream?

‘Of course it would matter,’ Alex said, not as hard as Michael expected it. ‘you know that.’

‘Yes, I do, but isn’t it nice to dream?’ He brushed his hand along the line of Alex’s shoulder, unable to resist touching him.

‘I already feel like I’m dreaming.’ Alex breathed out as he turned his head to look at Michael. ‘It’s like one of those dreams that is so good, you just keep waiting for it to turn into a nightmare.’

‘It won’t.’ Michael said with as much conviction as he could manage. ‘Look Alex, when Max found out, I thought that would be it. I thought it would be the point where he’d try and make me stop seeing you, but he hasn’t. It’s been seven months, and no one is any wiser. Maybe we could-‘

‘What are you saying?’ Alex asked and it was like something shuttered in Alex. His eyes lost that mellowness they’d had since they arrived. His shoulders went tight.

‘Isobel said something the other day, about how you just sort of fit. You fit into my life so seamlessly, our lives. Isobel likes you, Max-‘

‘Can barely look me in the eye?’

‘-likes you too. I guess.’ He could feel the nerves crawling up his throat, but he was going to do it anyways, he was going to say it. ‘Alex, I-‘

‘I’m actually kind of cold.’ Alex interrupted him, nearly stumbling in his haste to get up. ‘We should head inside.’ Michael found himself nodding dumbly as Alex left him laying there on the sand. He felt like something important just slipped through his fingers. Like he’d dropped something small and valuable that was now sinking into the sand.

When he’d managed to get himself moving off the sand, up the stairs and into the bed, Alex was already curled up on his side, his back turned to Michael. Michael felt a little nauseous, but they’d be here for another full day, they could talk tomorrow. They _would_ talk tomorrow.

The next morning, Alex was gone. Michael didn’t even need to check the rest of the house, he could just feel it. There was a note on the pillow that had been Alex’s.

_Michael,_

_I had to go to New Mexico early_

_Sorry to leave like this, but I didn’t want to wake you_

_I had a wonderful time_

_X Alex_

Michael stared at the note for a few minutes. He didn’t realize he was angry until his breath rushed out of him in one disbelieving sound. What the fuck? What the actual fuck?

He rushed down the stairs. Kyle looked at him like he was a ticking time bomb. Isobel tried to talk to him, but he didn’t even hear it. His phone was at his ear before he even realized what he was doing.

‘ _Yes_?’ Yasir’s calm voice answered.

‘How fast can you get me to New Mexico?’

‘Michael, maybe you shouldn’t-‘ Kyle started, but a truly murderous look shut him up pretty quickly.

‘ _I will check._ ’

‘I’ll grab my passport.’ Michael hung up the phone.

‘Michael, what are you doing?’ Isobel asked.

‘I’m going after him.’ His tone must have said enough, because no one tried to stop him.

He spend the entire journey there fuming in his seat, hood of his one (and only) sweatshirt up over his head.

How fucking dare he? How dare he be all soft, warm, amazing, kind, smart and fucking hot? How dare he make Michael fall in love with him and then run when he finally found the guts to tell him? How could he leave without even saying goodbye? He had to have known what Michael was about to say, right? He didn’t just flee into “sleep”, he fled the country, the _continent_.

Did those emails mean nothing? Was comparing Michael to the stars just a game? See how much he could lead him on? No, Alex wasn’t like that. But _why_?

Yasir was nothing but calm as he drove Michael from the airport towards Roswell. Any other time, Michael would have been staring out of the window, taking in the desert, but now the endless stretches of gold just reminded him of those emails.

They arrived in Roswell, New Mexico and Michael realized he didn’t know exactly _where_ Alex had lived in this town. Luckily, Yasir currently had more brain capacity than Michael did. He simply asked a man walking by to point them to the old Manes house.

When they arrived there was a black SUV in front of the house, with Oliver standing next to it, arms crossed. He’d never seen Oliver look so dead serious before.

‘Did you warn him I was coming?’ Michael asked Yasir, betrayal colouring his voice.

‘Michael, maybe you should-‘ Michael was already out of the car before Yasir could finish his sentence.

‘Where is he?’ He snapped at Oliver, who barely even blinked.

‘Your Highness, Alex does not wish to be disturbed right now.’ Oliver said in a professional tone that kind of hurt a little.

‘Do I look like I give a fuck?’ Michael raised his voice as he called out: ‘ _Alex_! Get out here you asshole!’

‘ _Michael_.’ Yasir said sharply, but Michael sidestepped him when he tried to grab his arm.

‘ _Alex_!’ He yelled again. Oliver looked like he was about to advance on Michael when the door opened.

‘Would you shut the fuck up?’ Alex said from the door opening. He looked tired again.

‘Tell him to let me in.’ Michael said pointing at Oliver. Alex sighed, deflated. He glanced behind him and then made a vague motion with his hand.

‘It’s fine, Ollie, let him in.’ Oliver stepped aside when Michael approached him.

‘Thank you.’ Michael said in his most bratty way possible. Alex had already headed back into the house, Michael followed closing the door behind him before Yasir could follow. ‘Are you fucking kidding me Alex? I was about to tell you I fucking love you and you just bail? I can’t-‘ Michael stopped dead in his tracks as he stepped into what had to be the living room. On the couch was a woman. ‘Oh.’

The shape of her face, her mouth, her eyes. She had to be-

‘Mom, this is Michael. Michael, meet my mother.’

Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOH WHAT?!
> 
> I'll be back on Wednesday!
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt like the longest three days in history! But, we're back with chapter 20! This one is a bit of a mishmash of little bits as the boys figure their shit out.

Alex could pretty much see the “oh shit” behind Michael’s eyes. The silence in the room stretched, but wasn’t as uncomfortable as it probably should have been.

‘Hello Michael.’ His mom broke the silence after a few seconds. ‘Nice to meet you.’ She got up and took a few steps towards him, holding out her hand. Michael was still sort of gaping at her (not very princely), but he did manage to shake her hand and eventually snap his mouth shut.

‘Nice to meet you ma’am.’ He said and Alex should’ve been mad, because for _fuck’s_ _sake_ , but he really couldn’t bring himself to be.

‘So, you’re in love with my son?’ She asked and Michael’s eyes widened.

‘Oh, um. I am so sorry for barging in like that. I thought- well- not this.’

‘I could have elaborated in my note.’ Alex said with a small flinch. ‘Or texted, but it’s been kind of a whirlwind.’ He admitted. Michael looked over at him, all traces of the anger he’d radiated before had disappeared.

‘We can talk later, I didn’t mean to- this is probably a bad time- I, uh.’ The wave of affection that washed over Alex was so overwhelming, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

‘Maybe you can wait outside with Oliver and Yas? Or you could wait upstairs? My old room is the second one on the left.’ Alex offered. Michael nodded.

‘Oh yes, I will wait upstairs.’ He disappeared from the room quickly. Alex bit his lip as he turned back to his mom. She was smiling.

‘So,’ she said, folding her hands together.

‘He’s my- my-‘

‘Person?’ She suggested.

‘Yeah, I guess so.’

‘And he is the prince, yes? I am not imagining that?’ Alex pressed his lips together and shook his head. She was still smiling. ‘My baby is dating a prince.’ She said with an incredulous laugh. Alex couldn’t help laugh too at the absurdity of it all.

‘I was in Greece with him and his siblings when you emailed, I kind of just…packed up and ran.’ Alex tugged at the collar of his shirt. ‘The night before I’m pretty sure he was about to tell me he loved me and I kind of panicked and fled. So, yeah, I handled that really well.’ He was expecting her to finally stop smiling, to finally realize he wasn’t “her baby”, that he’d been around his dad for too long, but it didn’t come.

Instead her eyes were caught on the bit of Alex’s silver chain that she could see. Oh.

He pulled it out from under his shirt, letting the ring fall on top of it. Her eyes widened.

‘I wondered where that went.’ She said, sounding emotional. ‘Have you worn it all this time?’ Alex nodded.

‘To remind myself I was more than just my dad and what he wanted me to be. To remind me of you.’

‘You wanted to remember me, even when I left? Even when I didn’t contact you anymore?’

‘I had a pretty good idea you were trying. I know dad and how he can be, I’m glad you left.’

‘Do you wish I’d have taken you with me?’ She asked and well, Alex had thought about that a lot, over the years and on the plane here.

‘Sometimes I did, but no.’ He shook his head. ‘If you had, I would never have met Kyle or Liz or Maria-‘

‘Or Michael?’ Alex smiled.

‘Yes, or Michael.’ It was very, very strange to see his own eyes looking back at him.

‘So you love him back?’

‘Yes.’ Shit that was the easiest question he’d been asked today. ‘But it’s not that simple.’

‘Yes it is and I think you should go tell him that, because he seemed pretty upset.’ She said with another warm smile as she stepped closer. She picked up the ring from where it was resting against his chest and held it between two fingers. ‘Seeing that you have this makes me very happy, Alex.’ She ran her finger over the engraving. ‘You were always the one that was going to stand up to your father, and I’m glad you haven’t lost that.’

‘You have my email now, please stay in touch.’ Alex said, he could feel the end of this meet-up coming.

‘I will.’ She said and Alex believed her. ‘I’m proud of you.’ She let the ring fall back against his chest and held her arms open. Alex stepped into them and hugged her. ‘Now, go reassure your prince that you love him too.’ She said as she pulled back. Alex swallowed away the emotions working their way up his throat.

‘I will.’ He walked with her to the front door. Oliver was stood with his back resting against the doorframe, he straightened up as Alex and his mom came from the house. ‘Ollie could you take my mom to wherever she wants to go?’ Alex asked and Oliver frowned.

‘I don’t want to leave you here alone.’

‘I’m not alone.’

‘His Royal Rudeness?’ Alex made a face at Oliver, who raised his eyebrows.

‘I need to talk to him anyways, might as well do that here while you do this.’ Oliver sighed and turned to Yasir.

‘If anything happens to him, I will punch you so hard you’ll beg me to kick you.’ Yasir didn’t look very intimidated, but he did look serious as he nodded.

‘Understood.’

‘I don’t get it.’ Michael said the moment Alex stepped into his old bedroom. Shit, really nothing had changed here. ‘One moment you’re comparing me to the stars and saying that you are tired of letting other people decide who we are and what the world is allowed to see of us and then you’re running away and saying it isn’t as simple as I love you and you love me. You do love me, right? I am not imagining this?’ Michael pushed himself up off Alex’s bed. Michael reached for his hands and Alex let him take them. ‘I’m fucking in love with you.’ And through all the confusion there was that look again. The one where he looked at Alex like he hung the fucking stars in the sky. What was he supposed to do with that?

‘Of course I love you.’ Alex said, almost a little proud that he didn’t stumble getting the words out. ‘But it _isn’t_ as simple as that. If you were just Michael and I was just Alex, it would be simple, but you’re His Royal Highness Prince Michael of Wales, and I’m Alex Manes son of the POTUS, this will never be simple.’ Alex tried to reorganize his thoughts. ‘Even after the elections, if my dad loses, you will still be a prince, that’s never going to go away. What is your family going to say when they find out? If they tell you to choose between me and your title, what are you going to do then?’

‘I’ll tell them to go fuck themselves, I’ll abdicate.’

‘And you can promise me, right now, you would never start to resent me for that?’ Michael looked a little bit like Alex had slapped him.

‘Alex, I don’t give a damn about the title, the houses or the money. I could work in retail for the rest of my life if it meant that I’d get to keep you.’

‘No you couldn’t.’

‘What?’

‘Retail is fucking hard, you couldn’t do that.’

‘ _That’s_ the part you focussed on?’ Michael asked with a laugh that was just a little incredulous. Alex could feel himself smile. He shrugged.

‘But I’m serious, could you come out to your mom? If she told you that you couldn’t see me again, would you go against her?’ Michael looked like he hadn’t actually properly considered that.

‘I’ll admit I hadn’t thought that far ahead,’ there you go. ‘but I would come out to her and I don’t think she’d tell me to stop seeing you, not if she knew I was serious about this.’ Michael tugged him closer by his hands.

‘A forever kind of thing.’ Alex mumbled. Michael looked up at him with a smile.

‘Make a little history.’ He said with a shrug. ‘Are we okay?’ He asked after a beat or two, more serious again. ‘Are _you_ okay? Your mom?’ Alex glanced at his old bed, an idea sparked in the back of his mind.

‘We are good. For now, let’s just be us and after the election, we’ll see where we go.’ Alex untangled his hands from Michael’s and set them against his chest. ‘Now, we could talk about my mom, or we could do something in my old bedroom that would give my dad an aneurysm.’

Alex was unbelievably happy to see the mischief spark in Michael’s eyes.

‘You want to have sex in your childhood bedroom?’ Alex shrugged.

‘You did come all the way here.’ Michael nodded thoughtfully.

‘I did, didn’t I?’ Alex pushed Michael backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed. It creaked dangerously as he sat down on it. ‘As long as you show me the stars before we leave.’

‘Oh, I’ll make you see stars.’ Alex said and it earned him a laugh. That was nice to hear. ‘Also, yes, we can probably needle Yasir and Oliver into staying until it gets dark.’ He bend forward so that he could kiss Michael. After they’d been arguing, it was probably sweeter than it had any right to be, but when had they ever done things properly?

Things didn’t stay sweet for very long. Michael pulled him into his lap, the bed creaked even more in protest. If this collapsed under them he’d never stop laughing. It held out as they kissed and Michael worked his way down Alex’s neck and as Alex bit Michael’s lip. It did start to sound a little sad though, so with a badly concealed giggle, Alex slid off Michael’s lap and onto his knees on the floor.

‘Let’s give the poor thing a little respite.’ Alex said as he started working on the button of Michael’s jeans.

‘Come back to the White House with me?’ Alex asked before he could talk himself out of it. He’d said it in his emails, maybe it was time to start doing a little more of what he _wanted_ to do. If Michael loved him, flighty tendencies and all, maybe he could be a little more brave.

They were curled up together on the back of a truck that Oliver managed to produce for them, Alex didn’t ask how, he just hugged Oliver. He remembered telling Oliver about this thing he loved to do a long time ago, he’d remembered apparently. They’re under a heavy blanket, because nights were cold in the desert. Yasir and Oliver gave them an hour before they had to leave so they could fly back to wherever, that all depended on Michael’s answer.

‘Alright.’ Michael said. ‘Impromptu visit to a foreign world leader, I’m sure Yasir is going to love that.’

‘My father isn’t home.’ Alex said casually. ‘He’s in Minnesota or something, Hunter is in Illinois, I’ve got the house all to myself. Well,’ Alex tilted his head. ‘as much as you can have the White House to yourself anyways.’

‘Are you suggesting we do dirty things in the rooms that George Washington once lived in? Won’t he turn over in his grave?’

‘Okay, first of all, Washington never lived in the White House, he just oversaw the construction. Second of all, probably, but Hamilton wouldn’t.’ He offered. Michael threw him a confused look. ‘If you read some of the letters he send to John Laurens… well, some would say they’re more romantic than the letters to his wife Eliza.’

‘Really?’ Michael said, surprise written all over his face.

‘Yep, I suppose you wouldn’t know that. You’d probably get beheaded for sympathizing with revolutionaries or something.’ Alex shrugged as much as he could while wrapped up in both Michael and the blanket.

‘You’re an idiot.’

‘But you love me.’

‘Yes, I do.’ Oh, right. That was a thing now. They were in love.

They laid there and watched the endless blanket of stars above them until Oliver cleared his throat and told them it was time to head to the airport, and if they already knew where the prince was going.

‘I’m making a small detour through DC.’ He could hear Yasir sigh behind them, but he didn’t protest, so he figured it was okay. Oliver set his hand on Alex’s shoulder as they hopped off the back of the truck. Almost like he was proud.

‘I do have a question.’ Michael said once they’d found their seats (somehow they’d managed to snag four seats, two adjoining, in first class (they figured Yasir and Oliver would appreciate that). Michael paid for the seats with a credit card that he called “his emergency card”. Alex didn’t ask if a trip to Washington to have sex in the White House counted as an emergency.

‘Go ahead.’ Everyone around them seemed very much absorbed in their own worlds, which was exactly how Alex liked it, but they were still very much in friend-mode.

‘Your mom?’ Michael asked, like that was an entire question in and of itself. Maybe it was.

So, as the plane took them to Washington, Alex explained how he’d been up at 3am feeling guilty over the… incident and picked up his phone to find an email from his mother, who he hadn’t heard anything from in about a decade. How she’d asked how he was, if he’d be interested in meeting up with her. She’d said she’d be in Roswell for a few days (she’d assumed he was in the US). He’d just sort of panicked that if he waited, she’d disappear again, and so he’d grabbed his stuff and called Oliver.

He told Michael how she’d confirmed his suspicions. She _had_ tried to contact them, over the years, but she suspected (much like Alex did) that their father never told them about those attempts. He told him how she said she was proud of him and how he couldn’t even remember if his father had _ever_ said that to him.

Alex didn’t remember the last time he’d talked that much in one go, but Michael just listened as Alex stumbled over trying to explain how that made him feel.

He was startled when the captain announced they were starting their descent towards Reagan. Michael smiled at his confusion.

‘Sounds like it was an enlightening conversation.’

‘Yeah, it was really good. I’m happy I went.’ He glanced over at Michael as they exited the plane. ‘If I’d known how fine everything was going to be I’d have taken my time a little more and actually said goodbye, but hey, hindsight.’

Oliver drove them from the airport to the White House. It was nearly 1am by the time they arrived and Alex managed to convince Oliver to actually go home, for a change, instead of sleeping in the White House like he did most nights.

Once they arrived in Alex’s room and he finally checked his phone, he found about fifty messages from his friends. He must have flinched, because Michael glanced over his shoulder.

‘Oof, that’s going to be fun.’ He said. ‘Good luck with that.’ He raised his eyebrows and turned away. Alex half-heartedly punched him in the upper arm.

‘Asshole.’

**Sorry I bailed, will update you later. I’m fine.**

It probably wouldn’t do much, but he send it in their group chat anyways.

**And with HRH?**

Liz immediately replied.

**With me rn**

Alex locked his phone down and put it in the charger next to his bed. He didn’t want to look at the thing for another while. He realized Michael was very quiet. He turned to find him standing near Alex’s desk, his fingers resting on something that was on the desk. Alex titled his head in confusion.

‘What have you got there?’ He asked, even though it was his room.

‘You kept this?’ Michael asked. Alex walked closer because Michael clearly wasn’t going to be any help.

Oh. It was the copy of Le Monde.

‘Yeah.’

‘It’s from that weekend we spend in Paris, right? Way back when?’

‘Yes.’ Michael turned to him, something soft on his face that Alex couldn’t quite put a name to.

‘That’s awfully romantic of you.’ He said and Alex gave a helpless shrug. What was he supposed to say to that: “I kind of knew I loved you back then but I couldn’t admit it to myself yet”?

‘I’ve been practicing my French with it.’ Alex offered and Michael laughed.

Michael barely had any of his stuff with him, so Alex grabbed the spare toothbrush he kept under the sink and gave him that. Brushing their teeth side by side like that was very domestic and stupidly funny. There really was no charming way to brush your teeth. Oh god, was that what it meant to be in love? That even the silly, completely very much not charming things were actually kind of endearing?

Despite their talks of doing things that would make the founding fathers roll over in their graves, they were both clearly exhausted and once they’d settled under the blankets, Alex wasn’t really inclined to move, and Michael seemed to agree.

‘Why did you run, initially?’ Alex didn’t have to ask for an explanation.

‘I think that when I realized what you were about to say, all my brain supplied was: “Abort! Run! This is where shit gets real! Get out! You can’t deal with these emotions! Go!” and before the calm, collected part of my mind could catch up, I did.’ Alex said, not really looking at Michael, but at the signet ring still on his pinkie.

‘I had a moment like that.’ Michael said. ‘New Year’s, when I first kissed you.’

‘Yeah, I guess we both make stupid decisions while under emotional stress sometimes.’

‘Yes we do, but we’re doing this. You and me.’

‘You and me.’ Alex repeated and Michael looked at him. Serious and so, so, honest.

‘One day I’m going to tell the world. If there’s any legacy for me, I want it to be that I was me. Honestly me.’

‘I’m up for making some history.’ Alex said and he meant it too. Together, maybe the future wasn’t all that scary. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Friday will be Chapter Twenty One :D
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday! I hope you all have an awesome weekend!   
> This chapter is honestly a little slow. Almost too calm... Hmm...
> 
> I wanna thank you all again for your support! It means so much to me to see all the kudos and the comments and the hits!

The next morning, they got to doing those sexy things that would make the founding fathers blanch. In fact, with the stream of profanities and praises that tumbled from Alex’s mouth, it felt a little bit like sacrilege. Good thing Michael hadn’t believed in God in a long time. Not since he realized that the whole “love thy neighbour” thing generally only counted if that neighbour was white, rich, straight and of the same religion.

When they’d managed to get their clothes on Michael finally felt brave enough to check his phone.

**I texted Yas and he just told me you went to Washington with Alex? So things went well?**

**You are allowed to tell your sister if you’re okay, you know?**

**Good god Michael, let me know that you haven’t been assassinated by the CIA please?**

**I am starting to get pissed now**

**Yas is saying you’re fine, but how do I know he’s actually Yasir?**

**Answer me dammit.**

**Sorry Izzy! I was… distracted and then asleep and then distracted again.**

**I’m fine. We’re great. I love you.**

**I’m happy for you. Still mad, but really happy for you.**

Izzy’s texts weren’t the thing he dreaded the most. No. That was the singular voicemail left by his mother. She _rarely_ used her personal phone, but when she did it usually meant you were in trouble. It must have shown on his face because Alex (who had been typing on his laptop at dizzying speeds) abandoned whatever he’d been doing and walked over to him.

‘Oh, do you know what they told her?’ Michael shook his head. He assumed Isobel and Max had said something, maybe Yasir did, but whatever they’d said, she’d been mad enough to call him. ‘Maybe just bite the bullet?’ Michael groaned and let his head fall back.

‘Fine.’ He hit the button and put the phone to his ear and he waited for the message to start.

‘ _Michael_ ,’ wasn’t it sad that he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d heard his mom say his name? ‘ _I do not know what is going on here, but I want you back in London by Tuesday. We need to have a conversation. I hope you are not going to do anything embarrassing, I thought we were past that._ ’ Michael clicked off the phone before it could ask if he wanted to repeat the message. He did not.

‘Well, I have one sincerely uncomfortable conversation in my future.’ Michael said with a grimace.

‘Maybe you can ask what they told her?’ Alex asked, setting a hand between Michael’s shoulder blades.

‘Yeah. I’ll text Izzy.’

**What exactly did you tell mom?**

‘If it makes you feel any better, you do look good in my clothes.’ Alex’s voice dragged Michael’s eyes away from the _typing…_ on his screen. He could feel the smile form around his mouth, completely without his permission.

‘Why thank you.’ Michael said, puffing out his chest a little. He’d brought barely anything of his stuff along with him from Greece. In fact, all he’d really brought were the clothes on his body, his wallet, phone and passport. That was it. Not very well prepared, but it had been an impromptu trip.

So now he was wearing a pair of Alex’s jeans that were soft and worn and clearly one of his favourite pairs (Michael was honoured) and an old MIT sweater that was a little snug around Michael’s shoulders.

**That you and a friend got in an argument and that you, in a fit of insanity, followed this friend back to America. Not a very good lie, sorry. In our defence we were still kind of hungover. We tried though. Is it bad?**

We? Michael sighed.

**Mom is very mad. She called. Can you tell her I’ll be back on Tuesday?**

‘Izzy and Max said I followed a _friend_ back to the US after an argument.’ He rubbed his fingers along his temple. ‘Good lord.’

‘People have done crazier things for friends?’ Alex offered, but it really didn’t sound very convincing.

‘Like?’

‘Well, did I tell you about that time I pretended I was British for, like, a year so that Kyle wouldn’t get in trouble?’

‘You most certainly didn’t.’ Michael said with a laugh.

‘He was late on turning in this assignment thing, and he made up a lie about how he’d been hanging out with his British friend _Alec_ , who he only got to see a few times a year and the little fucker ended up convincing his professor that if he could show her that he did, in fact have a British friend named Alec, he could get an extra two days to turn in the assignment.’ Alex said, fond grin on his face. ‘So, I get a call right, completely random. Kyle starts babbling at me “Hey Alec, how’s the weather in _London_?’ and I’m like “what the fuck is going on?” and he managed to explain the gist of it and basically, I pretended to be British so that Kyle didn’t get in trouble at med school.’ Michael laughed.

‘I’d like to say that that professor should be fired, because your British accent sucks.’ He said and Alex made an offended noise.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Darling, I love you, but your accent is terrible.’ Alex put his hand over his heart and gasped.

‘Oh wow, look at that. Betrayed by my beloved. That stings.’ He stumbled backwards as he spoke in the aforementioned terrible accent.

‘Are you sure you didn’t study drama?’

‘You know what, you little shit, see if I blow you on the floor of my childhood bedroom again.’ Alex said pointing an accusing finger at Michael, but he was having trouble hiding his laughter, so Michael didn’t take him too seriously.

‘You had just as much fun on that one as I did, if I remember correctly.’ Michael said reaching out to straighten the crooked collar of Alex’s shirt, and sure, maybe he let his fingers linger a little longer than necessary.

‘Have you ever had a tour of the White House?’ Alex asked suddenly. ‘A proper one?’

‘No, I haven’t.’ Michael had seen bits of the White House but not the whole thing.

‘Well, I think it’s time.’ Alex decided, heading back over to his desk to shut his laptop off. He seemed very careful about that. Shutting it down instead of letting it go to sleep mode. Michael should probably be better about that.

‘ _You_ are going to give me a tour of the White House?’ He asked, trying not to sound too sceptical. He knew by now that Alex knew a lot about a lot of things, some completely random. Him knowing about the house he lived in wasn’t too big of a stretch, but Michael liked to push his buttons sometimes.

‘I happen to know the tour by heart, thank you very much.’ Michael held his hands up in surrender and then motioned for Alex to lead the way.

Alex started at the beginning and lead Michael around the mansion.

‘Do you know the estimated value of this?’ He asked as they stood in the entrance hall. There weren’t many people around, which Michael hoped was more wisdom than luck.

‘The value to the American Identity is priceless, obviously.’ Alex said with a smirk. ‘But the monetary value is estimated at approximately 400 million dollars.

‘Oh, spare change.’ Michael said with a smirk.

‘Now, the White House Residence spans six floors and includes 132 rooms and 35 bathrooms. That makes for 412 doors, 28 fireplaces, 8 staircases, 3 elevators and the setup for an epic game of hide-and-seek.’ Alex said in what was a truly impressive impression of every tour guide Michael had ever listened to.

‘Who designed it?’

‘It was actually not an American that designed the White House, it was an Irish architect named James Hoban.’ Alex lead him down a hallway, nodding at several staffers as they passed by. ‘Also, as you know George Washington never actually lived in the White House, he actually died in 1799, a year before the house was completed in 1800, meaning he never even set foot in the completed house. The first president to live here was John Adams.’

Michael found himself looking around at the halls. He knew there was a rich history here, of course, but somehow the idea that the building had been standing for over 200 years was still surprising.

‘The White House was, in fact, build by slaves,’ Alex started before he added: ‘this is not in the regular tour,’ in his normal voice. ‘records show that most of them were trained on the spot to fill certain jobs.’

‘That’s left out of the normal tour?’ Michael asked and Alex threw him a meaningful look.

‘Also, did you know approximately ten people have died in the White House?’ Alex threw him a smirk. ‘It is also, reportedly, haunted.’

They meandered through the halls, Alex sprouting facts left, right and centre (“Did you know the White House didn’t have electricity for almost a century?”). He added smirks in the appropriate places (“this is actually the White House 2.0, the _British_ burned the first one down in 1814”) and generally, he made Michael feel just so head over heels in love it was kind of unfair.

‘Alex?’ Alex froze at the voice behind them, so Michael could take an educated guess who it was.

‘Hi dad.’ Alex said as he turned around. Michael was truly impressed by how quickly he switched into Alex Manes mode. Sure enough, there was Jesse Manes, in the flesh. Boring dark blue suit, red tie. Grey hair, politics smile. ‘You remember prince Michael, right?’ He could see the gears turn in the president’s head.

‘Of course.’ He lowered his upper body, but never broke eye-contact with Michael. That kind of defeated the purpose of bowing. ‘Your Highness.’ Michael would have said he could call him Michael, but he honestly didn’t want that so…

‘Mister President, good to see you. Alex has been so kind to give me a tour around the White House, it’s truly fascinating how much history there is in this building. I never knew.’ Alex wasn’t the only one that could act. Michael had perfected his bland smile years ago. ‘Alex knows so many facts, I am impressed.’ He added, just because he could. The president turned his eyes to his son, cold, calculating.

‘Yes, Alex is the smart one.’ Alex gave his father a tight smile. ‘I thought you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow?’ His father said. He could almost hear Alex think: I thought the same about you.

‘I left early, Michael mentioned he’d never been to New Mexico, so I showed him the desert.’ Alex said with a perfectly casual shrug.

‘And then I said I’d never actually, properly seen the White House, so he offered to give me a tour.’ Michael added, like they’d practiced it.

‘Oh, dad?’ Alex said, in a tone that had Michael look at him for a second. ‘Could I show the prince the Oval Office, or do you need it right now?’ Another analysing look from Alex’s father.

‘No, I don’t need it for another twenty minutes.’ He clenched his jaw as he smiled. ‘Go ahead.’

‘Thank you, dad.’ Alex said, starting off down the hallway again and Michael followed after a last plain smile at the president.

‘What are we doing?’ He asked as they were out of his father’s earshot. Alex smirked at him.

‘I’m gonna show you the Oval Office.’ He really didn’t look as innocent as he probably thought he did when he pouted like that. Drawing Michael’s eyes to that bottom lip, just begging to be bitten- right, in public. It took them nearly five minutes to get to the Oval Office, that’s how big the White House was.

‘So, what are we doing here _exactly_?’ Michael asked as he took in the room. It was admittedly, pretty nice.

‘If you want to sit in the chair, you should do it now. We have-‘ Alex checked his watch. ‘fifteen minutes, which means we have ten.’ Michael did kind of want to sit in the chair. So he did. It was a nice chair.

‘I can almost hear the founding fathers scream.’ Michael said with a smirk as Alex approached. ‘A British royal sitting in the Oval Office.’ Alex chuckled, low in his throat. It made Michael look up at him.

Alex turned the chair so that he could set a hand on each armrest. Michael tilted his head in question as Alex leaned in. He kissed him. In the Oval Office, with his father in the White House. Sure it wasn’t exactly a full on make-out, just a peck, but still.

Michael knew he blinked owlishly as Alex straightened up again with a satisfied smile.

‘Fun.’ Alex simply said, before motioning Michael along.

They finished up their tour without running into Alex’s father again. They watched a movie in the actual movie theatre in the White House. Alex smirked as he hit play on the movie White House Down in which (apparently) the whole White House ended up destroyed. He found it funny. He also pointed out the spots they’d recreated in the movie that they’d seen in real life during the tour.

It said a lot that Michael didn’t mind Alex’s interruptions during the movie. He normally hated that.

They finished the movie, had lunch, watched another movie (Alex admitted he was holding up here because his father never bothered to look for him there), made out a little with an exasperated Oliver (who had showed up around lunchtime) guarding the door.

They had dinner in a guest room (the one that was supposed to be Michael’s) and Alex tentatively said that with his father home, he really didn’t feel safe sleeping in the same bed. While he was awake, things were cool, but asleep he felt defenceless and he knew he wouldn’t sleep at all.

As much as he didn’t want to, he understood what Alex was saying, so he did his best to make sure Alex didn’t feel guilty. Yasir texted him his flight home left at 8am, so he’d be dragging his ass out of bed at 6. Michael flinched and showed Alex the texts. They were lounging in the guest room.

‘Ouch.’ Alex said, for the second time that day. Michael dropped his head back with a groan. ‘Sorry baby.’ Alex ran his fingers through Michael’s hair, scratching his nails over Michael’s skull. He dropped his head onto Alex’s shoulder.

‘I don’t want to leave.’ He mumbled.

‘I don’t want you to go,’ Alex sighed, his fingers kept combing through Michael’s hair, slowly lulling Michael into a relaxed state. ‘but you need to go talk to your mom.’

‘I don’t know what to say to her.’ Michael said, snuggling a little closer to Alex, trying to as close as he could. ‘I feel like she’s a rattle snake, ready to pounce.’

‘Do you want to tell her the truth?’ Alex asked, doing a good job of not sounding nervous about it.

‘Not really.’ Michael said. ‘Well, maybe, I don’t know. I’m very, very scared of what she’s going to do. If she tells me I can’t see you anymore… I don’t know what I’m going to do.’ Alex’s fingers didn’t stop moving. He nodded slowly.

‘You could start with one truth?’

‘What do you mean?’ Michael asked.

‘Maybe start with “I’m bisexual”? Alex offered, his voice was soft and kind.

‘I’ll think about it on the plane back.’

‘Talk to Yasir about it please.’ Alex scratched at his skull again. ‘He’ll probably have something smart to say.’ Michael didn’t even know why his eyes were watering right now. He looked down, twisting his signet ring around his pinkie.

‘You are wonderful, you know that, right?’ Michael twisted the ring around a little more as Alex seemed to breathe the question in. He twisted the ring up off his pinkie, he held it between his thumb and index finger.

‘You keep saying that, and one day I might believe you.’

‘That means I’m going to keep saying it.’ Michael said as he took Alex’s hand that wasn’t running through his hair and pressed the ring into it. ‘Here.’ Alex opened his hand with a confused little frown on his face. The frown turned to surprise.

‘What?’

‘I want you to have it.’

‘Michael you can’t-‘

‘Yes I can. I want you to have it.’ He brought up his hand to trail it along the silver chain around Alex’s neck. ‘You can wear it with your mom’s ring. To remind you that I love you and that I believe in you.’

‘As if you would let me forget that.’ Michael didn’t mention that Alex’s hands were shaking almost as much as his voice as he took off his necklace to add Michael’s ring to it. It landed next to the silver ring with a soft ting. ‘You know, my mom’s ring has always reminded me of home, of New Mexico, the desert, the stars.’ He fastened the chain around his neck again and ran his fingers along the two rings. ‘My two homes, side by side.’ Alex mumbled it, almost soft enough that Michael didn’t catch it. Almost.

They kissed until Alex had to go back to his own room. Michael told him not to get up early just to say goodbye, he needed to sleep. Alex sighed but said goodbye there and then in Michael’s guest room.

The little shit was waiting for Michael the next morning anyways.

‘I thought I told you not to get up early for me.’

‘I was up anyways.’ Alex said innocently.

‘No you weren’t.’ Michael argued.

‘You can’t prove that.’ Alex said happily (way too happily for 6:30am).

‘We’ll email.’

‘Yes we will.’ Alex waved at him as he headed out of the White House. ‘Bye.’

‘Bye.’ Michael waved over his shoulder, stepping into the early, grey morning. It was raining softly. Appropriate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be back on Sunday!
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally just realized I have a week off coming up XD, wow, my head has been everywhere but here these last few days!  
> We're getting to the final six chapters now, so shit is about to start going down! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your support!

Alex lasted a whole three hours before emailing Michael.

**Subject: We are writing love letters now**

**Michael,**

**I am still quarantined in my room. You’ve only been gone for three hours and I already miss you. It’s sad, right? How can I miss you when you were just here? When I just kissed you? I can still feel the ghost of your hands on my skin and I _still_ miss you. You are probably on a plane right now and I hope you don’t read this until you’re home. I like to think of you sitting in your museum bedroom, between so much history, reading my letter (yes, we’re calling these letters now). **

**I also wanted to say that you’re brave as fuck, and I need you to remember that. You chased after me, you insane, romantic little shit. I don’t think anyone has ever done that before. You seem to think I am capable of doing something incredible, well, I think you can do the same. I believe you can make a difference, I believe you will be remembered for so much more than just being the hottest prince ever (seriously).**

**See, you mentioned Newsies a while ago. I love the story of that, and it’s based on something that actually happened! The Newsboy strike of 1899, where these newsboys (often just kids) rose up to take on the rich and powerful owners of the newspapers they were working for. Now, in the musical, their leader is named Jack Kelly, but he was based off a real person. The leader of the newsboys in 1899 who went by the name Kid Blink (who I’m pretty sure earned that name because he wore an eyepatch). It’s a fascinating story and an inspirational one.**

**So, as far as I’m concerned, you’re Jack Kelly. Embrace Jack Kelly, channel his spirit.**

**You’ve heard the music of this, right? He was a little shit, but he believed in fighting for what was right, for the people who couldn’t fight for themselves. He believed in standing up for what you believe in, even if it might cost you, but he also cared deeply about the people that were standing up with him and getting hurt because of it. He nearly gave up because the people closest to him were getting hurt.**

**Well, let me be your Davey (in the musical they had chemistry for days and no one can convince me otherwise). You said you felt like your mom was a rattle snake, ready to pounce.**

**Well, do you know why a snake starts to rattle? Because it’s scared.**

**Maybe she’s scared for you, maybe she’s scared for the reputation of your family. But she’s _scared_. **

**I am not saying you have to tell her the truth, not at all, you should do that in your own time, at your pace and you should let no one make that decision for you. I’m just saying that people who are afraid do stupid things sometimes (like running away right when the guy you love is about to tell you he loves you…)**

**You are strong and I believe in you.**

**Love,**

**Alex**

**P.S. Something to believe in- Newsies**

**_The world finds ways to sting you and then one day decides to bring you, something to believe in. For even a night. One night may be forever, but that's all right. That's all right and if you're gone tomorrow, what was ours still will be. I have something to believe in, now that I know you believed in me_ **

‘Alex.’ He did not flinch as he hit the send button and turned to his father. ‘The next time I would like to know if there’s a prince in my White House.’ He looked uncharacteristically tired.

‘Of course, I didn’t think you’d be back yet.’ Alex replied easily.

‘I left early, Minnesota was boring.’

‘Of course it was boring, it’s Minnesota, but they are important votes.’ It was smooth and Alex was kind of proud of himself. His father even send him a sharp grin.

‘Yes they are.’ He tilted his head, the grin sliding off his face. ‘Have you been poking around campaign stuff?’

‘No. You told me to stay out, so I did.’ Now that was a straight up lie. ‘Minnesota has been a swing state for the last few elections.’ His father hummed and headed out of the room without another word.

**RE: Subject: We are writing love letters now**

**Alex,**

**I miss you too, of course I do. Every second I spend away from you is one too long. That’s dramatic, but hell, I am dramatic. I can barely stand to look away from you. Getting on that plane back to London has to be one of the hardest things I’ve done so far. The conversation with my mother I am about to head to, is going to be up there as well, I am afraid.**

**I wasn’t going to tell her anything, to be honest, but by god, you believe in me, so I will try. I will start with a truth. I’m not ready to share you with her yet, but I’ll share a part of me.**

**As usual, I don’t know why you know these things about random historical events, but I love that you do. I love you. Have I mentioned that?**

**I am also so, so, impossibly scared. Do you think they were scared? The people that started revolutions? They had to be, right? Being the first to do something is scary. Well, I am not the first one to come out to their mother, but I think I might be the first one to come out to the Queen of England.**

**If I could, I would tell you to pack a bag and we’d go live on that Greek island. People would forever wonder what happened to me while I sit on a beach drinking cocktails with you by my side. What more do I need? Maybe I can convince mom to give me the island… probably not.**

**Would you come with me?**

**I hope you’re sending me all of your positive energy, I am going to need it.**

**Yours,**

**Michael**

**P.S. _As long as you’re mine – Wicked_**

**_Kiss me too fiercely_ **

**_Hold me too tight_ **

**_I need help believing_ **

**_You're with me tonight_ **

**_My wildest dreamings_ **

**_Could not foresee_ **

**_Lying beside you_ **

**_With you wanting me_ **

****

****

Alex wasn’t one to just sit still and be, never had been, his hands were always moving. However, his thoughts were completely consumed by Michael and the idea of him sitting there with his mom, having to share this terrifying and so, so personal part of himself with her, unsure of what her reaction would be. Alex didn’t pray, but he begged any God that was up there to please make her reaction in the realm of okay.

**RE: Subject: We are writing love letters now**

**Of course I’m thinking about you. I’m sending you all the positive energy I’ve got.**

**You can do it.**

**Love,**

**Alex**

**P.S. (you want to go and hurt me with Wicked, two can play that game mister) Defying Gravity – Wicked**

**_It's time to try defying gravity. I think I'll try defying gravity, and you can't pull me down_ **

When it came to meeting his mom again, Alex hadn’t even really considered keeping his sexuality from her. She was the one that preached acceptance and embracing others for how they were. He truly didn’t understand how she and his father had ever worked enough to have four kids.

So he sat there and fiddled with the chain around his neck. The added weight of the second ring made him so much more aware that he was wearing it. Before he had just never taken it off, a steady presence around his neck, now it was a constant reminder that Michael had given him his damn signet ring (which he was pretty sure was solid gold). The ring Alex had never seen him without, not once.

Something about it made him feel braver (and hopelessly, head-over-heels in love), he hoped it did the same for Michael.

Every single time his phone signalled a new message, Alex could feel his pulse pick up speed, but it wasn’t Michael. By the time that it was nearly 10pm in London (by Alex’s calculations) he was freaking out a little.

Oliver showed up (like he could read Alex’s mind).

‘You might want to give your prince a call.’ He said, wiggling his own phone at Alex. Alex was on his feet immediately.

‘What, why? What do you know?’ Alex demanded, snatching his phone off his desk. Already hitting the speed dial for Michael.

‘Just that he’s in his room and refuses to move from the bed.’ Oliver said, heading towards the door again, making sure it was closed.

‘God fucking dammit, I swear if she made him feel like shit I’m gonna-‘

‘Please don’t threaten to kill a monarch in front of me.’ Oliver said with a whine in his voice. Alex rolled his eyes and turned away from him.

‘Hello.’ Alex couldn’t really remember ever having heard Michael sounds so dejected.

‘What happened?’ Alex asked, pacing back and forth in front of his desk in short, two step strides.

‘Well, her immediate reaction was basically “Oh good at least you’re not gay, you can still marry a girl”. So I asked “So, if I were gay I _could_ marry a guy?” and she said “no, but you’d be unhappy. Now you can still be happy.” and now I’m just sort of...’ Michael trailed off. Alex was so fucking angry.

‘Ollie, get out.’ Alex said, earning him a sigh from him.

‘No.’

‘Oliver, get out.’

‘ _No_.’ He repeated, more firm this time.

‘What’s going on?’ Michael asked. His voice sounded a little muffled like he was still laying on his bed with his head on a pillow.

‘Oliver won’t let me threaten to kill a monarch in front of him, so I’m telling him to leave, but he won’t go.’ Alex explained with a filthy look at Oliver. There was a short pause on the other end, and for a terrifying second, Alex thought he may have gone too far.

But then Michael let out a short little huff, nearly a laugh.

‘Good, tell him I agree that he shouldn’t leave.’

‘I will do no such thing. I can’t believe you, agreeing with Oliver over me.’ Alex said in fake annoyance.

‘Ha!’ Oliver said from his spot near the door and Alex flipped him off without looking.

‘Look, baby, I am so sorry. Maybe she just needs some time to get used to the idea?’ Alex offered, but he knew they were pretty empty words. He did not know what Michael’s mother was like at all, but he assumed she was headstrong, you had to be as Queen, right?

‘Maybe.’ Michael didn’t sound like he believed it.

‘Fucking shit.’ Alex said softly.

‘Yes, that.’ Michael agreed, defeated.

‘I don’t know what to do.’ He admitted, he felt really, really helpless. Unable to reach out and run his fingers through Michael’s hair or give him a kiss or poke him in the ribs until he smiled.

‘Tell me you love me.’

‘I love you.’ Alex could see Oliver perk up near the door. Michael’s sigh sounded relieved, it sparked an idea. ‘I know what I’m going to do. I am going to email you a list of the things I love about you.’ He was already kicking back his desk chair and booting up his laptop with impatient fingers. Michael let out an honest laugh that time. A proper one.

‘That should be fun.’ 

‘It’s going to be long as fuck, just you wait.’ Alex promised, drumming his fingers on his desk.

‘I will.’ Michael said easily. ‘I miss you.’ Alex paused in the middle of his frantic movements.

‘I miss you too.’ He made sure to pause so that it didn’t seem like an afterthought. ‘I wish I could be there for you right now.’

‘You are there for me.’

‘Well, yes, but not really.’ Alex complained. ‘I wanna run my hands through your hair so that you make that pleased little noise.’ Oh, that was going on the list. Michael groaned.

‘Don’t say stuff like that if you can’t follow through on it.’

‘I know, I know, I’m sorry. Just- just breathe okay?’ Alex said, opening his email. ‘I’m going to write this list and it’s going to be epic.’

‘You’re ridiculous, but I appreciate it.’ Michael said and he sounded so much more calm already.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

**RE: Subject: We are writing love letters now**

**As promised. I am not going to say much about it, but if you asked me to, I would do things that landed me in prison for life. Maybe beheaded (I know you don’t do that anymore, but they’d make an exception for me, I’m sure)**

**The Giant List of Things I Love About You:**

**1: Just you, all of you (this is a cop-out and I am not leaving it at this, but it is so, so true)**

**2: The way you laugh when I surprise you**

**3: The way your hair looks in the morning (I love your hair in general, but that’s my favourite)**

**4: The noise you make when I pull your hair**

**5: The pleased noise you make when I run my hands through your hair (this is the last one about your hair, I promise)**

**6: The way one of those perfect little ringlets will fall on your forehead (I lied)**

**7: That I just can’t quite decide what colour your eyes are**

**8: That thing you do where you pretend that you’re not that smart while we both know you could take humanity to Mars if you wanted to**

**9: That you think Hermione is the best character in Harry Potter (she’s cool, but clearly not the best, especially movie Hermione. I love Emma Watson as much as the next gay guy, but argh!)**

**10: How reckless and brave you make me feel when I have never felt like either of those things in my life**

**11: The way you love your siblings**

**12: How easily you fit into my life and into my little friend-family**

**13: How you refuse to sing for me**

**14: The way your hands look while you play guitar**

**15: Your shoulder-to-waist ratio**

**16: How good you look on a horse (save a horse ride a prince?)**

**17: How you came after me**

**18: How hard you try to be good**

**19: How fucking brave you are**

**20: That we can bicker about art, literature and music for hours (You are insane for thinking Bach had a bigger impact than Beethoven. _Insane_.)**

**21: Your unwavering confidence that I can change the world**

**22: How you want to change the world**

**There’s more, I know there is, but I want to get this to you and remind you that I love you and that you can and will succeed in whatever it is you want to do. (and if you really need me to, I will get on a plane to London and fight your mom (even though she kind of scares me))**

**Love,**

**Alex**

**P.S. Dear Evan Hansen- You will be found**

**_Even when the dark comes crashin' through_ **

**_When you need someone to carry you_ **

**_When you're broken on the ground_ **

**_You will be found_ **

**_So when the sun comes streaming in_ **

**_'Cause you'll reach up and you'll rise again_ **

**_If you only look around_ **

**_You will be found_ **

Alex send the email with a final sigh, cracking his fingers before getting up. Oliver was still there, for some reason. Lounging on the couch near the window.

‘Done?’

‘Yep.’ Alex said cracking his back too, for good measure, as he got up.

‘You are ridiculous and I’m happy for you.’ Oliver said, pushing himself off the couch. Alex shut down his laptop. He felt warm and happy and he really, really hoped this would help Michael out a little.

All in all, with it being a pretty regular day in the White House and Alex not technically being allowed to do anything for the campaign, he wasn’t really expecting to hear a loud thump-thump on his bedroom door. Oliver frowned.

‘Yeah?’ Alex asked and Harvey came stalking into his room.

‘What the fuck is this?’ He snapped as he shoved his phone towards Alex. Alex fumbled with it before getting a good grip on it. It was an article, some British tabloid. IS HRH PRINCESS ISOBEL HAVING AN AFFAIR? Underneath the headline was a picture of him and Isobel, taken while they were on the boat in Greece. In the picture he was grinning at her and she had her head thrown back in a laugh, he was in just swim shorts and she was only in her bikini. He remembered the exact moment, he’d said something silly about throwing Kyle off the boat just to see if he could clamber back on.

‘You- you think I’m sleeping with _Isobel_?’ He asked, disbelieve washing all over him. ‘Don’t be fucking ridiculous, Harvey.’ He shoved the phone back at its owner, suddenly unreasonably angry. ‘I’m not that fucking stupid. It’s just a tabloid trying to create drama, you don’t get to fucking come storming into my room for bullshit like this. We’re _friends_ , that’s it.’ Alex pointed sharply at his door. ‘Now get out.’

‘Alex if I find out-‘

‘I said: get out.’ Alex interrupted, as cold as he could manage. Harvey seemed to take the hint.

‘Your father wants to talk to you.’

‘About this?’

‘No, something else.’ He threw Alex a final exasperated look, but he did leave. Alex rubbed his hands over his face with a groan. Could they not catch a fucking break?

He wasn’t sure how they even got that picture, it was something to look into, because he was 95% sure that it was not one of the pictures of their trip that they’d chosen to put on social media. All of them together had (in their brand new group chat) discussed which pictures were clear to upload.

People were aware of their trip, not posting anything would just seem suspicious. So they’d chosen a few select pictures (a lot of landscapes and sunsets) to put on their respective social medias.

‘Oliver, does the article mention where they got that picture?’ He asked with a frown. Something didn’t seem right about this.

‘Let me check.’ Oliver said, pulling out his phone. He hummed as he found and skimmed the article. ‘Not that I can see. Something wrong?’

‘Not sure how they got that picture, I don’t think it was one of the ones we cleared for upload.’ He’d have to look into that, but first he had to go and see what his dad wanted. Was one conversation a day not enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'll be back on Wednesday with chapter 23!
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE GETTING INTO IT MY PEOPLE AAAAAH  
> I'm in SUCH a good mood today and I'm so excited to get into this part of the story!   
> Almost done too! Only two weeks left!

Michael felt like everyone was watching him a little more closely. Like his mom had told them something, but not quite the truth. It had been somewhat devastating for her to completely brush over the fear he had no doubt he was exuding and just go straight (ha) for erasing everything he just told her.

Isobel was furious when he told her, while Max was… well, Max. He tried to defend her a little, but he also admitted it wasn’t a very nice way to respond to your child telling you something that personal.

Alex’s email was… almost enough to make Michael forget. It was overwhelming (in the best way possible) to see how Alex paid attention to him. How he noticed little things. It was also a nice little ego boost to have Alex make _four_ points about his hair.

It did also made him want to make a list for Alex. It would be easy, but he also didn’t want to steal Alex’s idea. Maybe he could pull it out at a later date when Alex had a bad day. He didn’t reply to Alex’s email until the next day when he’d read the email three times and couldn’t stop smiling.

**RE: Subject: We are writing love letters now**

**A,**

**I adore you. Honestly. I am finally smiling again and you are 90% responsible for that (I have to give 10% to Izzy and Max too). It is strange to walk around Kensington now. I’m pretty sure my mother told everyone to keep a closer eye on me, because I feel like everyone is looking at me. Yas has refused to say anything except that she didn’t tell them the whole bisexual thing, and that she didn’t fire him (which is good, obviously).**

**Also, you should tell Oliver I said thanks, he’s the reason you called yes? I was going to text you but I just sort of… forgot how to move. Hearing your voice really helped.**

**You should record a song for me, by the way, so that I can listen to your voice any time I want.**

**Is that creepy? No it’s not right?**

**I checked with Izzy, she doesn’t think it’s creepy.**

**I was wondering, and as I’m writing it down it seems like a silly question but it’ll distract me, so humour me please: Is the president allowed to vote? It just seems a little narcissistic for him to be able to vote for himself?**

**Also, I have been thinking about it a lot since you mentioned it, and I’ve decided it’s time to do some remodelling. First and foremost, I am getting a new bed. One that is not that ugly gold colour. Also, I’m trying to convince my uncle to let me and Izzy hang this Vermeer he owns in the music room. (yes I know I just wrote that “casual, my uncle owns a Vermeer, whatever” I swear I know how insane that is)**

**I saw an article about you and Izzy, it is kind of hilarious. That tabloid is so ridiculous though, it didn’t even really register on our people’s radars. It is a nice picture, although I don’t remember any of us uploading it? But I have a shoddy memory for stuff like that.**

**Have I mentioned that every time I see your name pop up on my screen my heart does a little flutter? I don’t think it’s healthy actually. Maybe I should see a doctor about that. (who am I kidding, I’m not doing that)**

**I miss you I miss you I miss you and I love you**

**We need to figure out when we’re going to see each other next.**

**Yours,**

**Michael**

**P.S. _You matter to me - Waitress_**

**_It's addictive the minute you let yourself think_ **

**_The things that I say just might matter to someone_ **

**_All of this time I've been keeping my mind on the running away_ **

**_And for the first time I think I'd consider the stay_ **

Michael was pretty sure there was supposed to be a sense of freedom in coming out, and maybe that had been the case when he came out to Izzy, and after the initial horror, after he came out to Max, but that feeling didn’t seem to be coming when it came to his mother. Not when she kept throwing these glances at him during dinner. Like she was still hoping he’d go “haha, got you!”. He hoped she’d figure it out soon, that he wasn’t kidding, that he was serious. Dead serious. If she accepted that, maybe one day she could accept Alex too.

**RE: Subject: We are writing love letters now**

**His Royal Hotness, (I’m trying something new here, I think I hate it)**

**I will give 10% of the credit to Izzy and Max, but that’s all I’ll give. I really hope the feeling of being watched goes away soon. I know what that’s like and I hate it.**

**As for your question: Yes the president is allowed to vote, and so am I.**

**In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but it’s one of my little acts of hidden rebellion (like how I used to put my pocket money (way, _way_ back when) in an envelope and put it in the mailbox of the family down the street who didn’t have a lot of money). I have voted Democrat in every single election in which I have been allowed to vote. It’s a way for me to say “you can control my voice, but you can’t control my _vote_ ”. I feel exhausted though, having to pretend. I’m always acting and I’m just so tired. **

**I am so happy to hear you’re finally turning your museum room into a proper home for yourself. You deserve it. It is your _home_ , it should feel like it, it should make you feel like you’re being hugged, not like you’re being judged by your ancestors. **

**As for seeing a doctor, maybe we should go together, because my stomach sure as hell goes funny every time I see your name.**

**Sorry for the late reply by the way, my dad dragged me along to Oregon (Hunter got the flu, because of course he would get the flu). We should absolutely see when we can meet up next. I miss you so much it hurts. I wish they would invent teleportation already, so I could just snap my fingers and be with you. Test out the new bed, see this Vermeer (and yes it’s a luxury problem, “gosh which masterpiece should we hang on the wall?”, but I do love Vermeer).**

**If my father gives me a minute, I might look into how that tabloid got that picture of me and Izzy. That was on your phone, was it not?**

**You are brave and strong and I love you.**

**Yours,**

**Alex**

**P.S. Almost Paradise – (I know it from) Footloose**

**_I thought that dreams belonged to other men_ **

**_'Cause each time I got close_ **

**_They'd fall apart again_ **

**_I feared my heart would beat in secrecy_ **

**_I faced the nights alone_ **

**_Oh, how could I have known_ **

**_That all my life_ **

**_I only needed you?_ **

The next two days passed in a haze that Michael didn’t really want to think about too much. He kind of felt like walking through a thick mist. Like he wasn’t quite sure where he was going or what was happening, all he really knew was that something uncomfortable had settled in his stomach, and it wouldn’t go away.

He missed Alex, but that wasn’t new.

He felt like someone was constantly looking over his shoulder, also not new.

He didn’t sleep well, but that had been going on for years.

No there was something else.

He just didn’t really know what until Friday morning when Yasir burst into his room at 6am and all but dragged Michael out of his (new and very comfortable) bed.

‘Clothes on.’ Yasir said as he shoved a pair of jeans and a shirt at Michael.

‘What- what’s going on?’ Michael managed as he pulled the shirt over his head. His first thought was some sort of attack, men with guns or maybe a bomb. Yasir looked uncharacteristically frazzled. His tie was crooked and his hair wasn’t the neat quiff it usually was, a few strands springing loose here and there.

‘Move.’ Yasir just said as he stalked out of Michael’s room again.

‘Do I need shoes?’ Michael asked desperately as he stumbled out of his bedroom after just barely managing to grab a pair of socks.

‘No.’ Michael hopped around, trying to put on the socks while still following Yasir who didn’t show any signs of slowing down.

‘Yas, would you tell me what the hell is going on?’ Michael asked as he managed to get his socks on and jogged to catch up with Yasir. There was a tension in his shoulders that Michael did not like, something nervous in his steps that he didn’t remember ever seeing before.

He didn’t answer.

The uncomfortable feeling of the last few days had tripled and was rolling over him in waves of nausea. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong and Yasir wouldn’t tell him anything.

Yasir lead him to one of the sitting rooms, where Michael was surprised to find both Max and Isobel awake, looking equally rumpled. Standing next to a table with her hands planted a shoulders width apart, breathing very consciously was his mother. His mother who was supposed to be at Buckingham, but wasn’t. He barely recognized her like this. Plain pants, an old sweater that, Michael realized with a stab of pain, looked like it had belonged to his father, no make-up, her hair in a half-hearted ponytail. She looked up at him and Michael knew whatever it was, he was in trouble.

‘What did you _do_?’ She asked sharply, her voice cutting through the thick silence like a knife.

Well, there were a lot of things that could be referring to. Was she talking about him harassing his uncle about the Vermeer? Was she talking about flying to New Mexico on a whim? Was she talking about replacing his bed (was it some old precious relic?)?

‘Could you be more specific?’ He asked, ignoring how his voice shook.

‘ _This_.’ She all but snarled, grabbing a paper from one of the guards behind her and throwing it on the table. It landed with a loud smack. Michael took a step forward so he could read the headline.

It felt like his stomach dropped through the floor, all the way down to the basement.

‘Wh- what?’

‘ _Leaked emails reveal romantic relationship between prince Michael and FSOTUS Alex Manes._ ’ His mother read with fury barely concealing what Michael now recognized as panic. Leaked emails. Leaked _emails_. _Leaked emails_.

‘Oh fucking shit.’ His mind raced over everything he’d written to Alex in those emails, everything Alex had written to him. Every panicked thought slammed through his brain at once. He skimmed the first few lines his eyes stuttering on one quote in particular “ _You compare me to the water. I’ll compare you to the stars._ ” No. No fucking way. That was _his_. These words, Alex’s words were _his_ and now everyone would see them. No.

‘Yes “oh fucking shit”.’ His mother repeated and he had no time to be amused over his mother cursing like that. ‘What in the ever living hell were you _thinking_?’

‘I- I-‘

‘You are supposed to be the genius, you cannot tell me you have really been that monumentally stupid? Is this some sort of punishment? What could I possibly have done to deserve this, Michael?’ Michael frowned at her.

‘You think this is about _you_?’ He asked, his private thoughts, his privacy had just been violated. Laid out for the whole fucking world to see and she had the audacity to make this about her? ‘For god’s sake mom!’

‘I have given you everything you could possibly have wanted, and you could not even think about the reputation and the legacy of your family before you decided to stick your tongue down the throat of the son of Jesse fucking Manes, one of the most controversial presidents the United States has had in years?’ Alex. Oh fucking shit. Alex.

‘Is Alex okay?’ Michael asked, turning to Yasir so quickly everything around him spun for a second. He could see his mom throw her hands up in the air from the corner of his eye. Yasir’s jaw was clenched tight and he swallowed before answering.

‘Not sure. I send Oliver a heads up, last thing I know he was heading to him.’ None of that was reassuring.

‘Did you hear anything I just said?’ His mother snapped at him before turning to Yasir. ‘How long have _you_ known about this?’

‘Almost since the beginning, Your Majesty.’ Yasir answered honestly and Michael was doing half-hearted calculations in his head to see how long he could pay for Yasir’s services himself. If he cost Yasir his job, he would never forgive himself.

‘I cannot believe this.’ She said, twisting her wedding ring around her finger. ‘Unbelievable.’ She turned to Isobel and Max. ‘And you two?’

‘Since the beginning.’ Isobel said, her chin titled up in defiance. Shit he loved her.

‘A few weeks.’ Max admitted, a lot more remorsefully.

‘Did everyone know about this but me?’ His mother asked, close to shouting. ‘All I ask of the three of you is that you do not embarrass our family, the Crown and what do you do?’

‘How is this embarrassing?’ Michael asked, suddenly so immensely angry. ‘Huh? How is me falling in love embarrassing?’

‘Oh Michael do not be ridiculous, you are not in love.’ She snapped at him. ‘Can you not just find a nice wife, someone normal-‘

‘Are you suggesting Alex is not normal? Because I swear to God mother, I will walk out of here and never come back.’

‘Stop being over-dramatic-‘

‘I cannot believe _you_ of all people are telling me not to follow my heart.’ Michael said, surprised by how cold his voice sounded. Judging by the looks on other faces in the room, he wasn’t the only one. ‘What about dad, huh? Didn’t you marry him despite your mother disagreeing? Despite the backlash from the press? Didn’t you do it anyways because you loved him and couldn’t imagine your life without him? Well guess what, mom? I don’t want normal! I don’t want a boring job and a boring wife and a boring life.’ Michael found himself yelling now. ‘I want to _feel_ something, _anything_! He makes me _feel_ something!’ He swallowed, were his eyes tearing up? ‘You married dad, fuck the consequences, because you loved him. Well, I love Alex, so fuck the consequences.’

The silence in the room was so heavy and thick and it lasted to the point that the security behind his mother started to shift uncomfortably. Michael refused to budge. Alex was his, one of the only things that was his. He’d chosen Alex and Alex chose him. He wouldn’t give in on this.

‘You would walk away from us, would he do the same for you?’ His mother asked, the anger had faded to where she now looked almost exclusively scared. Scared _for_ Michael, he realized with a start.

‘Yes.’ He answered without hesitating. ‘It’s him we should be worried about, mom.’ The press might try and eat Michael alive, but if his family stood by him, stood tall and strong in support, they couldn’t touch him. Not really. Alex on the other hand, how many allies did he have in DC? Liz was in New York, Maria in LA, Kyle was there and so was Oliver (hopefully), but would they be able to protect him?

‘Why?’ She sighed.

‘You said it yourself, his father is a crazy bastard who hates anything that is outside of his idea of “normal”. I need to make sure Alex is okay. He said that he wasn’t sure what his father was going to do if he found out, and now he’s going to get caught off guard and if he-‘ Michael found his breathing shuddering on the inhale. ‘I just- I need to make sure he’s okay.’

‘Mom, a simple phone call won’t hurt anybody, right?’ Isobel said from her corner. Their mom clenched her jaw.

‘Not yet. We do not know where the leak came from. We are on communications lockdown.’ She said, in full Queen-mode, but her eyes softened as she looked at Michael. ‘I am sure he will be fine. If you love him, he must be quite special.’ She sounded like she was forcing the words out, but she did say them. Michael swallowed.

‘He’s a mouthy little shit, but he is strong.’

‘Then you have to believe he will be okay.’ He didn’t want to just believe, he wanted to _know_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For our next chapter we're going to Washington to see how things are playing out with Alex. Jesse Manes fucking sucks (that's not really a spoiler it's just a statement). 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! A few things:   
> One: A warning: Jesse Manes is a fucking piece of shit in every universe including this one, but Alex has more people on his side than he thinks  
> Two: I wrote most of this chapter all the way back when I was still at around chapter 6, it sat in my doc for nearly 20 more chapters until it fit  
> Three: After this there's three more chapters and an epilogue  
> Four: Thank you so much for the amazing response on the last chapter! It made me so happy!

The most surprising part about the whole thing? It was _Hunter_ that burst into his room at 1am, startling Alex out of a restless sleep, hitting the lights. He was followed closely by Oliver (looking sleep rumpled, but ready to fight whoever came near Alex) and Harvey, who looked positively _livid_.

‘What in the ever living _fuck_ were you _thinking_?’ Harvey opened with, voice hard and cold and Alex could feel the dread pool in the bottom of his stomach.

‘What?’ Alex asked, feeling really exposed and small, sitting up in his bed like this. In a sharp, harsh movement Harvey threw a tablet down onto Alex’s bed. He leaned closer, ignoring his glasses on the bedside table.

The headline staring at him from the Daily Mail made him feel like someone slammed their icy cold hand through his ribcage, grabbed his heart and squeezed.

**A ROYAL AFFAIR: LEAKED EMAILS REVEAL ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN PRINCE MICHAEL AND FSOTUS ALEX MANES**

‘L-leaked emails?’ Alex could feel the colour drain from his face. He felt lightheaded. Was he still breathing?

‘They’re all over WikiLeaks.’ Harvey sneered. ‘How, Alex? How the fuck did you let this happen?’

‘Okay, calm down.’ Hunter spoke up, raising a hand at Harvey. ‘Look at his face, he’s clearly shocked. Maybe it’s all fake.’

‘You honestly believe someone would fake all of this?’ Harvey snapped, pointing at the headline. Alex didn’t want to look at it, didn’t want to read any of it. Hunter looked tired, but hopeful as he turned to Alex.

‘Look, just, tell him. It’s all faked, right?’ Hunter asked, Alex opened his mouth and closed it again. He couldn’t remember how to use his voice.

‘Maybe we should give Alex a second to put some clothes on. We did burst into his room at 1am.’ Oliver said, eyes soft and concerned.

‘Alex.’ Hunter ignored him. ‘It’s all fake, right?’ He was starting to sound distressed now. ‘You wouldn’t do this.’

‘I-‘ Alex could feel the panic rise in his chest, squeezing at his stomach, his lungs, rising up to his throat.

A big, warm hand landed on his shoulder. He’d recognize Oliver’s grip anywhere.

‘Kid, you need to breathe.’ Alex realized with a start that the odd wheezing noise he was hearing was his own breathing. He tried to focus on Oliver, on his slow and steady breathing. He tried to shut out Harvey’s insistent aggravated mumbling and Hunter’s shocked expression.

‘Tell me why Prisoner of Azkaban is your favourite Harry Potter book.’ Hunter’s voice cut through the static in his ears.

‘Because it’s the only book that doesn’t, in some way, focus on Voldemort. It’s more about the relationships between the characters. Draco gets punched, we meet Sirius Black and Lupin. We learn about animagi, which is one of the coolest bits of magic in the whole series. Harry somehow manages to miss the fact that one of his best friends is _time travelling_. It’s the book that focusses on Quidditch the most which is also interesting and Dementors which are horrifying. Also the Marauders map is a super cool piece of magical-’ Alex stopped talking with a start. His breathing had calmed down significantly.

He still felt like he was about to fall off a cliff, teetering on the edge of nothing, but he could breathe again.

He looked up at Hunter, who was watching him with startled blue eyes.

‘You’re on communications lockdown.’ Harvey snapped into the silence, snatching Alex’s phone from the bedside table. Oliver threw him a scathing look and Alex could feel his own anger rise. He pushed himself out from under Oliver’s hand and off the bed. He held out his hand.

‘Give me that back.’ He demanded.

‘No.’

‘Harvey-‘

‘You’ve already caused enough problems, we don’t know where the leak came from. You are on lockdown.’ Harvey repeated. ‘Put on some clothes.’ He said throwing a pair of sweatpants at Alex’s head. Alex did as he was told, grabbing yesterday’s shirt from the floor where he’d left it last night. Harvey started moving away from Alex’s bed towards his desk, seemingly heading for Alex’s laptop. Alex followed.

‘I need to talk to Michael.’ He said sharply.

‘No you don’t.’ Harvey picked up his laptop. Alex was prepared to snatch the device from his hands, he _needed_ that laptop.

‘Yes I d-‘ The door to Alex’s room slammed open and the sudden sound had Oliver reaching for a weapon he wasn’t wearing.

It had been a long time since Alex had seen his father look like this. He was, somehow, impeccably dressed. His face was contorted with rage, his eyes focussed directly on Alex immediately. The rage wasn’t hidden, like other times over the last handful of years, it was right there out in the open. Alex froze like a deer caught in headlights, just waiting for the truck to run him over.

‘ _You_.’ Was the only thing his father said before advancing on him. It didn’t seem like he even registered there were other people in the room.

Alex didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until the air rushed out of him when his father backhanded him. He stumbled, nearly falling into his desk. His father’s hand grabbing his hair and then the other closing around his throat stopped his momentum. He was pushed backwards until his back hit a wall.

‘In _my_ house, how _dare_ you-‘

This was a different way of not being able to breathe.

‘ _Dad_!’ Hunter’s voice was suddenly much closer, but Alex didn’t dare look away from his father’s eyes. ‘Let go of him!’ The blue, blue, blue was trying to kill him by glare alone. He saw movement from the corner of his eye and then the pressure around his throat was gone.

It was like someone cut his strings as he slid down the wall onto the floor. His knees ended up pulled up to his chest, his arms limp beside him. He barely registered Hunter manhandling their father away from him. He could feel Oliver’s presence at his side, but he didn’t touch him, which he appreciated.

His dad was still raging, but Alex couldn’t hear it over the rushing in his ears. He felt like he should be crying, but there was nothing. Just a cold emptiness. He could feel something warm on his lip and it was like his body took a few seconds to process it before he felt the sting.

Oh. He was bleeding.

His back hurt and so did his jaw, his throat ached along with his scalp where his father had yanked at his hair.

‘Alex?’ Oliver said his name like he’d been saying it a few times already. Concerned and with that tightness that meant he was mad but didn’t want to show it.

‘Yeah.’ Alex’s voice came out scratchy and he coughed automatically.

‘Stay here for a second.’ Oliver said and Alex nodded. He wasn’t even sure what he was staring at. His eyes were out of focus, but he couldn’t find a reason to make the effort to focus them again.

It wasn’t until the room fell into silence that Alex realized stuff had been happening around him. He blinked. His eyes focussed on his bed across the room from him and then drifted to Oliver who was standing at the door.

It wasn’t often that he saw Oliver as anything but calm, amused or mildly annoyed, but right there, he looked furious. When he turned to Alex, he could feel himself flinch. Oliver’s eyes widened and his expression went from anger to horrified in the blink of an eye.

‘I would ask if you are okay, but it seems like a stupid question to ask.’ Oliver said after a few beats of silence. ‘I am _so_ sorry, Alex.’ Alex blinked a few times as Oliver approached.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a little voice that sounded like his father said: This is the part where he kills you.

Instead, Oliver flopped down onto the floor a few feet away from Alex.

‘What are you sorry for?’ Alex asked, his voice was still hoarse. He should drink something. Whiskey seemed like a good, terrible idea.

‘That this happened to you, that I couldn’t protect you.’ Oliver said and Alex found himself confused. ‘It’s my job to protect you.’ He said, softer, more to himself than to Alex. Oh, Ollie felt _guilty,_ Alex didn’t feel like he had the emotional capacity to do anything about that right now.

‘I want to talk to Michael.’ Alex said, his whole body suddenly ached for warm eyes and a crooked grin. Oliver looked over at him with a sad sort of smile. ‘I need to talk to Michael, I need to know if he’s okay.’

‘This is your forever kind of thing, isn’t it?’ Oliver asked, swallowing thickly. ‘You love him enough to go through this whole mess? It’s going to be ugly.’

‘I love him. None of this is going to change that. I love him with this whole mess. On purpose. I love him on purpose.’ Alex said and Oliver watched him carefully for a few seconds before sighing, running a hand over his face and pulling out his phone.

‘Okay.’ He pushed himself to his feet. ‘Stay here.’ Alex nodded dumbly as Oliver headed for the door.

Just as he was reaching for the knob there was a knock. Oliver immediately looked ready to kill someone.

‘Alex? It’s me.’ Alex could have cried. Oliver looked at him and Alex nodded, not trusting his voice. Oliver unlocked the door and opened it. Kyle looked frantic, his shirt was half buttoned, most of them in the wrong holes, his shoes were untied and his hair was a _mess_. ‘Liz called me, she’s on a plane right now and so is Maria.’ Kyle came waltzing into the room.

‘Kyle,’ Oliver said firmly. ‘lock the door behind me. Don’t let anyone in that Alex doesn’t want to see. Got it?’ Kyle nodded, eyebrows pulled together in a frown. He did as he was told after Oliver slipped from the room.

After he locked the door, Kyle marched over to him- and then proceeded to stop dead in his tracks as he looked at Alex.

‘What happened to your face?’ Kyle said it strangely blankly. Almost like he knew the answer, but didn’t want it to be the answer.

‘Can you just come sit with me for a bit?’ Alex asked instead of answering. Kyle swallowed thickly, he looked like he was in physical pain, but he sat down on the floor next to Alex, back against the wall, knees up, mirroring Alex’s position.

Over the next few hours, Alex felt like he was going crazy. No one would tell him anything, Oliver had disappeared along with Hunter and his father. Harvey tried to come in once, but after Kyle firmly and explicitly told him there was no fucking way he was letting him in, he didn’t try again. Liz arrived after two and a half hours, Maria another three hours later. They all sat huddled around him. Liz put on some music on her phone to drown out the silence. Alex closed his eyes for a while, laying his head on Liz’s shoulder, but sleep never came.

By the time dawn rolled around, Alex just felt empty. There was no more fear, no more sadness, no anger, just this empty sense of longing. He was missing something, someone. He missed Michael.

It was 5:30am when there was a knock on the door. Maria was the one to make her way over there.

‘Yes?’ She asked.

‘It’s me.’ Oliver’s voice sounded and Alex perked up a little. Maybe Ollie could get him out of here. Maria checked with Alex before she opened the door. He came walking into the room, looking no less haggard than he had when he’d walked out over five hours ago. He had his phone pressed to his ear and he motioned for Alex to hold just a second.

Somewhere during the five hours, the three had relocated him to the bed, cleaned his lip and put him in actual clothes and not just sweats and a dirty t-shirt.

‘Yeah, here he comes.’ Oliver said before handing the phone over to Alex. ‘You don’t have long, and if you ever tell your father about this he’ll have me killed.’ Alex accepted the phone and pressed it to his ear. He was almost afraid to hope, afraid to think that maybe-

‘Alex? Darling?’ Michael’s voice was small and it was like all of the emotions he’d lost over the last five hours came barrelling back into him.

‘Hey baby.’ He said, unable to keep the tears that were suddenly in his eyes from messing up his voice a little.

‘God, are you okay?’ Michael sounded wrecked, like he’d torn himself apart and barely put himself back together.

‘Much better now.’ He said and Liz rubbed her hand over his back. ‘Liz, Maria and Kyle are here.’

‘Good, that’s good.’ Michael said with a soft breath of relief.

‘Are you okay?’

‘What? Yes, I’m fine. I just want you out of there.’ Michael said, brushing any concern over him off. Alex didn’t really agree on that.

‘I want to leave.’

Suddenly, that was all he could think about. He wanted to go to London. Now.

He looked at Oliver, who had his shoulders back and an intense look on his face.

‘Tell me what you need.’ Oliver said.

‘My laptop.’ Oliver nodded sharply.

‘Pack what you need, I am going to find Harvey.’ Oliver was out of the door and Alex was off the bed and in motion immediately. Liz went to lock the door, but she stopped as a figure appeared.

‘Alex?’ Alex yanked his suitcase from under his bed.

‘Hunter.’ He said, distracted. All he really needed was his passport, phone (shit Harvey had that too) and laptop, but having some of his own stuff would be nice. If the royals refused to let him stay with Michael he had to get a hotel. He threw some clothes in and Kyle appeared with his toiletries neatly packed in a bag.

‘Where are you going?’

‘London.’ Alex straightened up and looked his brother dead in the eye. Liz seemed to be hesitating, unsure if she should close the door or not. ‘Don’t bother trying to stop me.’

‘I’m not going to.’ Hunter said firmly, holding something out for Alex. Alex stepped closer and realized that Hunter had somehow gotten Alex’s phone. ‘Go.’ Hunter said. ‘Go to him. I’ve got your back.’

‘Thank you.’ Alex managed, suddenly choked up. ‘For pulling him off of me.’

‘Of course. I should have done more for you, but I didn’t, and I’m sorry for it.’ Hunter pressed Alex’s phone in his hands and backed off with a small smile. After he left the room, Liz closed the door with raised eyebrows.

‘Well, that was different.’

‘Yeah, he told me a while ago that he wanted to be a better brother, but I didn’t believe him. Seems like he was serious after all.’ Alex said, spinning his phone between his fingers. He’d checked, no messages from Michael. He assumed they’d taken his phone too.

‘Where the hell do you think you’re going?’ Alex clenched his jaw so tight he was afraid he’d crack a tooth, but he didn’t flinch. His laptop was under his arm, his ultimate bargaining chip.

‘I’m going to London.’ He said, firm, no-nonsense, just like his dad had taught him.

‘Like hell you are.’ Alex turned around and faced his dad. He’d looked in the mirror, he knew it was clear his lip was busted and that there was already a bruise forming under his right eye. He could see the surprise, confusion, shock on the faces of the people with his father. Communications personnel, anyone they’d been able to get out of bed at 2am.

‘I wasn’t asking for your permission.’ Alex said.

His father stepped closer, but Alex refused to give. Not this time.

‘You are not going.’ His father said in a low tone, accentuating each word carefully.

‘I am.’ Alex said. ‘You can’t stop me. I am twenty one years old, I can go wherever I want to go. I am going to London. You can do whatever you want, dad, but this is my life, _mine_. _He_ is mine. You can’t take that away from me, I won’t let you.’

‘You won’t _let_ me?’ His father smiled his vicious politics smile. ‘And how exactly do you plan on doing that?’

‘You seem to be forgetting something, _dad_.’ Alex could play that game too. He had a shark smile too. ‘See, it was a pretty good plan, keeping me so close to you all those years. Using my brain for your gain. But you miscalculated on one thing: I know everything dad. I have had access to everything from day one. I know everything and I have _proof_ of everything.’ Alex motioned at his father with his laptop. ‘What do you think I’ve been doing for the last few months?’ Alex smiled. ‘Doomsday plan.’

‘Are you threatening me?’

‘That all depends on one thing. Are you going to lend me Air Force One to fly to London?’ His father watched him with narrowed eyes. The smile that spread over his face was cold and hard, no joy whatsoever, but something dangerously close to respect.

‘Well played. This is not over, but well played.’

‘Do we have anything on where the leak came from?’ Alex asked as they walked across the runway to the plane. His tie flapped around because of the wind, but he was probably going to end up going face-to-face with the Queen, he at least wanted to look decent. It was ridiculous, and this whole taking Air Force One thing could actually be something that got him in trouble, but it was easily the fastest way for him to get to London, so he refused to care about anything else.

‘Not yet. Ideas?’ Oliver asked, still at his side. Shit he was so happy that Oliver was standing by him.

‘Well, I’m 95% sure the leak didn’t come from my end.’ He said, nodding at the pilot as they boarded the flight.

‘Because you’re a freak about your cyber security.’ Oliver nodded and Alex rolled his eyes.

‘Clearly it’s not overkill seeing as I’m pretty sure someone hacked Michael’s computer and got to our private emails.’ Alex still felt a little sick as he said it. ‘I think that’s also how they got that picture of Isobel and I that was up a few days ago.’ Oliver nodded.

‘Alright, well we’ve got an 8 hour flight ahead of us so…’ Oliver waved his hand vaguely at Alex’s laptop still tucked under his arm. Alex let out a short laugh.

‘I’m not doing anything. I’m sure the people that work for the royal family can figure this out too.’ Oliver let out a disappointed noise.

‘And here I was thinking this was going to be the scene in the movie where you look all cool hacking on your laptop and I sit there pretending to know what was going on.’

‘You’re an idiot.’ Alex said with a helpless smile. ‘Thank you.’

‘Of course.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Sunday Alex will arrive in London! 
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 25! I hope you all enjoy it!

‘Alex is on his way.’ Yasir leaned in to say. Michael had been banished to his own rooms as their people tried to figure out how the emails got out in the first place. Apparently, Washington was refusing nearly all communication, but Yasir obviously had an inside informant. Oliver had not cut off contact, Michael really hoped he wouldn’t pay for it.

‘Oliver texted?’ Yasir nodded. Isobel was sitting on his couch, scrolling through something on her phone. Michael’s phone and computer had been taken and he hadn’t seen them yet, which was pissing him off, while he was also almost happy for it. At least he couldn’t go and check what people were saying online. He doubted it’d be pretty.

Knowing that Alex was on his way, that he’d managed to get out of the White House with Oliver and had gotten on a flight to London send a wave of relief and longing over him. It had been eight hours and now all that was left was whatever it would take to get from Heathrow to here. Anyone who tried to stop Alex from getting here would be dealing with Michael personally.

He didn’t pace, mostly because he was just so damn tired. It was like his body didn’t know what to do or feel anymore after having felt so many emotions in a short period of time. Having to defend your choice of partner to a monarch was not fun, apparently. He refused to be nervous about Alex actually, properly meeting his mom. It could go either really badly, or really well, he felt like there was no in between.

‘I have to say, Michael, a lot of the stuff on Twitter and such is actually pretty positive.’ Isobel said, leaning back on the couch so she could look at him. ‘You two are trending on Twitter, and apart from the ever-present assholes, most people seem to think you two are the great love story of the 21st century. You even have a hashtag: FirstPrince.’

‘Well, sadly, no one really cares about Twitter, Izzy.’

‘I care about Twitter.’ She said haughtily, doing an admirable job of trying to distract him. He threw her a look that conveyed all of that, and she let out a sharp little laugh.

Yasir looked… haggard. Nervous in a way that Michael wasn’t used to him looking. He kept adjusting the lapels of his jacket, even though it looked impeccable. Michael headed over to him.

‘I’ll make sure you get to keep your job, you know that right?’ Yasir looked at him with a confused pinch between his eyebrows.

‘I’m not worried about myself, well, I am, but that’s not the part I’m _most_ worried about.’ He said, setting his hand on Michael’s shoulder. ‘I’m worried about you.’

‘Me? I’ll be fine. If mom doesn’t want to let me be with Alex, I’ll just leave.’

‘That’s what I’m worried about, I don’t think you fully understand what you’re saying with that and how much you are protected from right now without even realizing it.’ Yasir sighed. ‘I want you to be happy and safe.’

Michael wasn’t sure what to say to that, so it was probably good that Michael could almost feel that Alex had arrived, otherwise he might have done something silly, like cry. It was like a change in atmosphere. The guards near the entrance straightened up and Yasir tipped his head towards the door.

Michael wasn’t embarrassed to admit he felt himself perk up. Like his soul re-entered his body. Like he could feel again. Yasir headed off, to the door, forcing Michael to stay put with a sharp look. There was the sound of the door opening, a few words being exchanged and then footsteps coming towards them.

Whatever warmth he’d been feeling at the idea of seeing Alex was replaced by pure, cold dread the second he saw him. His lip was split and he had a bruise under his right eye and along his jaw. Michael reached out to him with shaking hands, unsure _why_ they were shaking.

‘I’m going to kill him.’

‘No, you’re not.’ Alex said, handing his laptop that he’d had under one arm to Oliver before stepping towards Michael, letting him cup his cheeks and carefully trace his fingers along his cheekbones. ‘I’m fine.’

‘He hurt you.’ Michael said with a nasty tone in his voice.

‘I’m here, I’m _fine_.’ Alex repeated. Michael glanced at Oliver, who looked about as worn as Yasir did.

‘I think this is the part where you give us a second to say hello.’ Michael said, Oliver narrowed his eyes.

‘He’s got a busted lip, this is enough saying hello.’ Oliver said tightly. Alex threw Oliver a look over his shoulder. He turned back to Michael with steely determination.

‘Hello.’ He said happily before giving Michael a soft, lingering kiss. Michael was, admittedly, kind of afraid to move, to hurt him, so he just let Alex pace them. Their kiss didn’t last long enough for either of their security to get impatient, luckily.

‘Your mother wanted to see you two as soon as Alex arrived.’ Yasir said, clearly trying to nudge them into movement. Michael waved him off, taking another few seconds to just, sort of, enjoy Alex’s presence. The warmth of his skin under Michael’s hands, his soft, even breathing. He looked calm, which wasn’t really how Michael was feeling.

‘Relax.’ Alex brushed his hands along Michael’s sides. ‘It will be fine. You and me, yes?’

‘You and me.’ Michael repeated, taking a deep breath before taking Alex’s hand. Now that he could, he wasn’t letting go.

‘Good luck, boys.’ Isobel said from the couch and Alex’s eyes widened.

‘Oh my god, I hadn’t even seen you there.’ He pulled away from Michael and hurried over to say hello to his sister. Fine, because it was Isobel, he’d allow it.

‘Time to go.’ Yasir said before Isobel could drag Alex into some kind of hour long discussion. Alex tangled his fingers with Michael’s as they headed from the room. Oliver still had Alex’s laptop under his arm, it didn’t seem necessary to literally take it everywhere, but Alex must have told him to.

His mother had gone back to Buckingham, so they had to take the car there. There was a feeling in London that made Michael feel itchy, like the whole city was buzzing. They avoided the front of the palace, which Michael was glad for, he didn’t want to see the crowds of reporters no doubt swarming around like sharks that had smelled blood. They took the side entrance and ignored all the eyes on them as they walked the halls.

As cool and calm as Alex had acted before, Michael could tell he was nervous to go properly meet Michael’s mother.

His mother had taken the time to change, looking far more regal (and therefor intimidating, great). As they were ushered inside a room and the door closed behind them, silence fell. Alex seemed uncertain what to do next.

‘Am I supposed to bow?’ He asked in the softest whisper possible, however, the room was dead silent.

‘Yes.’ His mother answered, voice level and emotionless. ‘You are supposed to bow.’ Alex let go of Michael’s hand and bowed, stiff and not deep enough and he didn’t turn his eyes to the floor. Michael had to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh. It wasn’t funny, but something about it was so damn funny.

‘You were not raised to bow, were you?’ His mother asked, tone still carefully blank.

‘No, Your Majesty, not really. I was more or less raised to salute, not bow.’ Alex said, standing up straight again. God he was so strong.

Alex probably couldn’t see it, but Michael could. The teeny tiny upwards curve of the corner of her mouth.

‘What happened to your face?’ She asked and Alex went tense. He shifted his foot, but when he spoke his voice was steady.

‘My father was very… upset when he found out about the whole gay thing.’ He said, carefully choosing his words. He stopped abruptly and didn’t continue. His mother’s eyes fluttered. She was a lot of things, but she would never, ever hit any of them, Michael was as sure of that as he was sure that the sun rises in the east and the earth revolves around de sun.

‘He was that upset and he still let you come here?’ His mother asked and Alex let a quick, sharp smile flash over his face.

‘I may have twisted his arm a little.’ His mother raised her eyebrows and Alex motioned for the laptop that Oliver was still holding. ‘I have… data on that, that could be very damaging to his efforts to get re-elected.’ The Doomsday Plan, of course.

‘Blackmail?’

‘Cause and effect. He kept me so close to him all these years because he knew I was different and he wanted to make sure I never… acted upon it, but being that close to him also allowed me to see every dirty little thing he did to get to where he is and document it.’

‘You mentioned in your emails that you hate politics, are you sure about that?’ Alex clenched his jaw. If his mother had read that (which made him mad) she’d also read the why.

‘Yes.’

His mother took a deep breath and turned to Michael.

‘Are you okay?’ Well that was a question much more difficult than it had any right to be.

‘I- I don’t know. I’m better now that he’s here.’ His mother nodded, like that was the final confirmation she needed.

‘Listen to me.’ Michael couldn’t help but straighten up. ‘I may be Queen, but I am also your mother, I was your mother before I was Queen and I will be your mother after I hand the throne over to your brother. If you want this, him, truly want this. I will stand with you.’

‘What- what changed?’

‘He is wearing your ring.’ She sighed. Michael looked over at Alex who was looking down like he only just realized the chain with the two rings was resting on top of his shirt, instead of under it. ‘I have now seen the way he looks at you and the way you look at him. I have read your words. You were right, it is hypocritical of me to ask you to give up someone you love just because their gender will cause a media shitstorm.’ He could see Alex bite his lip from the corner of his eye. Yes, hearing a Queen say the word “shitstorm” was something to behold.

‘I don’t want to hide anymore.’ Michael said firmly. His mother nodded.

‘Then we will not treat this as a scandal, we will treat this for what it is, an invasion of the privacy of these two young men. I have been told that the hack executed on my son’s computer was most likely done by an anti-monarchy extremist group. They aimed to use this to embarrass us, we will not treat it as such.’ She turned to the man on her right. ‘Any word from Washington?’

‘No, Your Majesty, radio silence.’ He was their head of communications, Johnson. She turned to Alex.

‘If we make a statement, what will your father do?’ She asked, folding her hands in front of her.

‘If we come clean? He’ll eventually try to spin it, probably disown me, distance himself in hopes of getting the religious nutcases rallying behind him to win the election.’ Alex said it with an air that he couldn’t really care less.

‘Would you be okay with that?’

‘If I never see my father again, I would be thrilled.’ He said. ‘Him winning the election, not so much.’

‘Yes, as you mentioned in your emails.’ His mother said, something softened in her face. ‘I hesitated on reading them, because they are your private correspondences, but I wanted to make sure you were right for my son.’ She titled her head, took a steadying breath (which Michael recognized, because he did the same thing) and got up. People around the room shifted, but she waved at them with a very un-queenlike gesture. She walked over to Alex and took one of his hands. Alex looked like he was scared to breathe. ‘Over the last few years, I have not been the best mother to him, it makes me so happy to see how you love him. How you love all of him, challenge him and support him.’ Alex swallowed.

‘He means the world to me.’

‘I see that now.’ She let go of Alex’s hand and turned to the side. ‘Johnson, start drafting a statement.’

**@PinkSparkleUnicorn: OMG I KNEW Alex Manes couldn’t be straight!!! He has waaaay too much fashion sense for him to be a straight man! #FirstPrince**

**@JohnRedRichards: What a disgrace. I can’t believe the president would let his child get away with this. How is he supposed to run our country if he can’t even control his own kid? #FirstPrince**

**@BellaMonoxide: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD THIS IS LIKE A DREAM COME TRUE! A GAY PRINCE?! YES PLEASE #FirstPrince**

**@hmd23: Holy shit, it’s all true? I told you all months ago, but none of you believed me! Rise #FirstPrince, rise!**

**@SusanHarlow: This is ridiculous, how is the monarchy supposed to be the picture of British excellence when one of their princes wants to bang… well, that American kid #FirstPrince**

**@MarieIsHonest: Ugh, I can’t believe Michael didn’t choose someone more attractive, how am I supposed to accept that a 10 would go so hard for a 3? #FirstPrince**

**@Mander3Switch: Have ya’ll read these emails? O my god. It’s like true modern day love letters! It’s so sweet! Who knew Alex Manes had a heart? #FirstPrince**

**@DarrenCrissFangirl: Honestly, Alex Manes is so fucking hot, I’m glad he’s turned out not to be a giant fucking dick like his father #FirstPrince #VoteBlue**

**@DemsForPres: How can anyone vote for Manes if his own son won’t even vote for him? That should say enough! #FirstPrince**

**@lusblim4: OMG, this is peak romance! Star-crossed lovers exchanging secret love letters? Sign me the fuck up! When are they making the movie of this?! Can I be in it? #FirstPrince**

**@EmmaArthur: If anyone says anything bad about either of them, I will fight you. They are in love! Leave them be! #FirstPrince**

**@ilovetowritesmp: Honestly, nice going Alex! Congrats on getting the planet’s most eligible bachelor! Kudos! #FirstPrince**

**@Monluna-dreamer: I am so here for this! These emails read like a book! Who’s going to love me like #FirstPrince love each other, huh?**

**@Chamblerstara: Look at my child growing up and being gay! What a good boy! I knew he was the only good Manes! #FirstPrince**

**@HighlyLostCause: Oh my god LOVE LETTERS?! These two, I swear!!! Also, I totally called it! #FirstPrince**

The endless stream of comments was just too much, too many opinions, too many people that knew nothing thinking they knew everything. Michael needed to put his phone down (it was technically Alex’s phone, but he was on his laptop, Michael was still unsure of where his own phone was), but it was hard. The good comments seemed to outweigh the bad, but the bad comments seemed to hit at least five times as hard.

He knew this was huge, but it wasn’t until Alex made a breathless little noise that Michael realized just how big this thing got.

‘What is it?’ Michael asked, pushing himself to the side so he could see what Alex was looking at.

Alex turned his laptop a little so that Michael could see. It was a CNN broadcast. The sound was off but the line running along the bottom read: INTERNATIONAL SUPPORT POURING IN FOR FIRST SON ALEX AND PRINCE MICHAEL. The images showed a rally in front of the White House, the people were decked out in rainbow colours, waving both American and rainbow flags around, holding up signs: ALEX MANES: FIRST SON OF OUR HEARTS and AMERICA LOVES ITS FSOTUS. The image changed to what looked like Paris, with signs reading: “MON AMOUR” and “JE T’AIME”. It showed a massive mural somewhere in London of Michael’s face in pink, purple and blue. Royal blue. It changed to show a crowd outside of Buckingham, right outside from where they were. Waving their flags, some were wearing homemade shirts with a line Michael recognized: HISTORY, HUH? Alex’s own words. These people were out there for them, in support, _proud_.

Alex turned to him with so, so many emotions in those deep brown eyes.

‘I want to go out there.’

‘Me too.’

‘No way in hell.’ Oliver said sharply at the same time Yasir said:

‘Absolutely not.’

‘C’mon, Ollie.’ Alex whined. His eyes went wide and he was honestly _pouting_.

‘No.’

‘But-‘

‘No.’ Yasir said in that equally firm tone that said they were used to dealing with brats like Michael and Alex.

‘I want a shirt like that.’ Alex crossed his arms and moped. Oliver rolled his eyes so hard it had to hurt.

‘I will personally make you one, but you are not going out there.’

‘Statement is done.’ Yasir cut in, he started reading from his phone. ‘ _The Royal family would like to confirm the relationship between His Royal Highness Prince Michael of Wales and Alexander Manes_.’ Alex mumbled something that sounded like “I really need a title, don’t I?”. ‘ _For now, the family asks for time as they investigate how these private emails were leaked. This is an unacceptable breach of the privacy of these two young men, and the perpetrators will be prosecuted accordingly_.’

‘Nice.’ Isobel said, throwing them a thumbs up from the couch she’d settled on again.

‘Oh.’ Alex said, his eyebrows heading for his hairline. He was looking at something on his computer again. More rally images? He looked at Oliver over his shoulder. ‘You are never going to guess who just invited me to come speak at their final rally.’

‘Who?’

‘Alexandra Diaz, the Democratic presidential candidate.’

‘She wants you to speak at her rally?’ Oliver sounded suspicious, but Alex grinned.

‘It’s all a political play, of course, but think of the audience I’d be able to reach. This will be televised. I could tell my story on American soil, without needing approval from my father.’ Alex said like he could already see the plan forming in his head.

‘It doesn’t matter what I say, does it?’ Oliver asked, casting his eyes towards the heavens.

‘Of course it does, if you genuinely think it’s a bad idea, I won’t do it, but think about it, Ollie.’

‘I am thinking about it, and it’s scary as fuck.’

‘Of course it is, but no one ever made history by giving in to fear.’ Michael pointed out, causing Alex to make an excited noise, pointing at him.

‘There! Michael gets it.’

‘Of course Michael does.’ Oliver sighed. He rubbed his hand over his face. ‘Fine, when and where?’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, we're heading into the last week! Oh!
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, you guys, it's the final week. I can't believe we're here and that it's actually almost done! I finished this before S2 has even started! That's crazy.

It was not that Alex wanted to leave, he really didn’t, but staying in London forever, however tempting, felt too much like hiding. Plus, he had stuff in the White House he wanted to keep and he refused to ask Hunter to box them for him and send them over, he was too proud to do that.

As he flew back to the States, sans Michael, he finally took the time to read and reply to his mother’s email. She’d written him a short message about how she was so sorry that this happened to him, that no one deserved to have their personal thoughts revealed like that, and to tell her if there was anything she could do.

He answered by thanking her, but also saying he’d prefer it if she did nothing. He didn’t want her caught in the shitstorm that was his life right now. He didn’t need anyone else close to him involved in this.

He was still holding on to his laptop with a death grip, unwilling to let it out of his sight. He knew that deep down he wanted to release the information, but he also knew that meant he’d lose his bargaining chip and that was not an option yet.

For now, he just hoped that the mess this leak had created would be enough to sway the voters away from his father. He had seen several articles already on why this was an all-around disaster for his father. The most conservative voters were moving away from his father because he “should have known his kid was ‘disturbed’”, the moderates were moving away because Alex was getting massive amounts of support under young people.

Alex had mostly managed to keep his bruised face away from the cameras, but there were a few shots here and there taken by sneaky press that showed the marks on him. Speculation ran wild, of course. Especially when an anonymous source in the White House told the press that Alex had left the White House _with_ those bruises after the leak.

Conclusions were drawn. Damning conclusions.

Alex was letting it happen, unwilling to confirm or deny.

It had been long enough that the bruises were now pretty much faded, so he wouldn’t have to decide if he wanted to cover them up for the rally, or let them out. That was good, he didn’t feel up to making decisions like that right now.

Their first stop was DC and as the plane started its descend Alex ignored the swoop in his stomach. He had to remind himself he wanted to grab some things from the White House. Nothing that wouldn’t fit in the second suitcase he still had under his bed, he wasn’t planning on coming back.

Alex wasn’t expecting the crowd at the White House, but someone had apparently spotted him at the airport. When did he become like a damn celebrity? The cheering was loud and overwhelming. He was very happy that Hunter and Kyle were there to practically drag him out of the car and into a crushing two-way hug.

‘Look what a guy down the street is selling!’ Kyle said enthusiastically as they herded him inside. He pointed at his shirt. It was one of the “History, huh?” shirts Alex had seen in London.

‘Cool.’ Alex said, giving him a thumbs up. ‘Did Maria send over the thing?’ Alex asked, checking over his shoulder to see if Oliver was still near him.

‘Yes, she did. I’ve got it right here.’ Hunter said, wiggling his phone around. ‘All we need to do is print it.’

‘Have you read it?’ Alex asked watching as several secret service agents turned their backs as they approached. Probably because his father told them to let him know if Alex came back, but they didn’t want to. At least, that’s what Alex hoped was happening.

‘Yes. It’s good, really good.’ Kyle nodded enthusiastically. ‘You nervous?’

‘Of course. I’m fucking terrified, but this is my chance, you know? To say what _I_ want to say.’ Hunter clapped him on the shoulder.

‘And you’re going to do great.’

Hunter and Kyle helped him get all the important stuff from his room. His drawer with personal stuff, his hidden back-up hard drive, some clothes, the watch Jim bought him after they won the election. He hadn’t asked Kyle about it yet, but his father had been as dead silent on the whole matter as the White House was. As far as Alex was concerned, it was a bad strategy, but hey, if his father wanted to nuke his own campaign, that was fine by Alex.

He was pretty sure that as soon as Alexandra Diaz announced that she would be welcoming Alex Manes to her rally in exactly 30 minutes, they would suddenly be scrambling to make a statement, but for now, they didn’t know. Exactly as planned.

‘Is that everything?’ Kyle asked, spinning around the room in a circle.

‘Yeah, I think so.’

‘Good, let’s get you out of here and back to the airport.’ Kyle said but Hunter held up his hand.

‘Just one more question.’ He looked at Alex. ‘Dad said you basically blackmailed him into letting you leave the White House for London.’

‘I did.’ 

‘What do you have?’ Hunter asked and Alex supposed this was the moment he had to decide whether or not he actually trusted Hunter.

‘Every dirty, dark, little thing he’s done over the last six years to get into and stay in office.’

‘You have proof?’ Hunter’s eyebrows darted up.

‘Of all of it.’ Alex confirmed. Hunter nodded slowly.

‘You should leak it,’ He said and Alex’s eyebrows rose. ‘once you’re safe and sound in London, at least, I assume that’s the plan?’ Alex nodded.

‘I’ll think about it.’ He still wasn’t quite sure what to do with his brother’s new found rebellion. ‘Why the change of heart? You’re the politician, this would damage your reputation too, people wouldn’t trust the son of Jesse Manes any time soon.’

‘I like a challenge.’ Hunter shrugged, and that clearly wasn’t the whole story, but for now Alex would let it go.

Alex and Kyle flew to Dallas while Hunter stayed behind in DC, waiting for the inevitable fallout. Hunter had assured them he’d be fine. Alex was choosing to believe him.

Maria met them at the airport.

‘Did you read it?’ She asked as she hugged Alex tight. He took a second to breathe in her warmth.

‘Yeah, I did, it’s brilliant.’ Alex grinned at her. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘I really wanted it to capture your spirit, you know.’ Maria said, her smile almost shy, which was very unlike her. ‘Twitter is blowing up by the way, everyone is so excited to see what you’re going to say.’

‘No pressure.’ Kyle added, very helpfully.

‘Wow, thanks.’ Alex said, pushing at his shoulder.

‘The White House basically did the whole “anything Alex Manes says is in no way approved by the White House or President Manes” blah, blah, blah.’ Maria said as they were guided towards the car.

‘Of course they did.’ Alex rolled his eyes. ‘He thinks I am going to go up there and go “Vote Diaz! I’m super gay! Vote Blue!”, idiot.’ Kyle laughed.

The drive to the rally was nothing but a big whirlwind.

Alex wished Michael was here. He wished Michael could lean in and whisper something in his ear, set his hand on Alex’s shoulder, brush his knuckles past Alex’s. How was he supposed to be a functioning human being? He could barely function without Michael. Well, no, it wasn’t that he couldn’t function, he just couldn’t function comfortably. Michael made him feel like nothing could touch him. Fearless.

Michael had tried to convince his mother to let him be there for Alex’s speech, but she refused to let him leave the country. She apparently said “as much as I like Alex, he has to do this on his own”. Which, first of all: Holy shit, the Queen liked him. Second of all: That kind of sucked.

They arrived at the venue and they were immediately told the line stretched around the block. Alex tried not to let the nerves settle in his throat.

Alex had never met Alexandra Diaz before, he’d watched her speeches, so he recognized her, but they’d never officially met. She wasn’t particularly tall, but she had an imposing air about her. High cheekbones and a no-nonsense attitude that was palpable.

‘Mister Manes.’ She came walking up to him with an outstretched hand.

‘Please, call me Alex.’ He said as he shook her hand.

‘Then you should call me Alexandra. I would tell you to call me Alex as well, but that would get confusing.’ Her smile was easy and warm. She seemed calm and settled, Alex really appreciated that about her.

‘Yes it would.’ Alex agreed.

‘You know, I wasn’t sure if you were going to accept the invitation.’ Alexandra said as she motioned him along towards the stage. He followed her in the direction of a haggard looking woman with a headset on.

‘My advisor was against it, but I figured, where else am I going to get a platform like this, on American soil?’ Alex folded his hands behind his back.

‘So you’re just using me, huh?’ She asked with a raised eyebrow, but an amused look on her face.

‘As much as you are using me.’ Alex said with a sharp grin. ‘Politics.’ He added with a shrug.

‘You know, for a guy who claims you don’t like politics, I do think you’d be good at it.’

‘Probably, but I don’t want to be.’ He said, pausing near the stage, he could hear the buzz of the crowd already. Oh god, this was fucking scary. ‘I am not here to campaign for you. I am here to make sure the true story is told.’

‘I didn’t invite you to campaign for me, I’ve done that myself.’ She said, pulling his attention back to her.

‘And you’ve done it well.’ Alex agreed.

Alex was prepped to go on stage, mostly by Maria and Kyle. Maria kept messing with his hair and Kyle had straightened his tie (royal blue because fuck it) at least three times. The comforting weight of the two rings resting against his skin under his shirt was a grounding feeling. Michael may not have been there, but a part of him was.

**You can do it. I believe in you. Love you. Miss you.**

Alex didn’t really have any sense of time anymore. The time difference was messing with his head, but he couldn’t have slept right now even if he _was_ tired. Still, by his calculations it had to be nearing midnight in London.

**I miss you too. I will do my best. Love you.**

He should have focussed on prepping for his speech, probably, but Liz had send him a picture. A picture of a large brick wall, her caption said somewhere in Brooklyn, with a giant spray painted mural. It was him and Michael, both dressed in Hogwarts robes, hands intertwined, smiling, Alex in Slytherin green, Michael in Gryffindor red. It was amazing.

He hadn’t posted anything on social media since the leak, but this, this needed to be seen. So he uploaded it to Instagram and didn’t let himself overthink any of it. He added the simple caption:

**History, huh?**

After that he handed his phone over to Oliver. He really needed to give the guy a raise or something, he was acting as Alex’s PA as much as his personal guard.

He was going over the speech again, the woman in charge had just told him he had five minutes until he had to head onto the stage (over the in-ear they’d given him so they could talk to him while he was on stage). His hands were shaking. He hadn’t really realized it in the madness of the whole thing, but he hadn’t actually done this before.

He’d been on stage as his father gave speeches, he’d introduced his father at speeches and he’d watched more speeches than was probably healthy, but he’d never actually done this before. This wasn’t just a statement, this was a full blown speech. Shit.

‘Alex, bro, you need to relax.’ Kyle set a firm hand on his shoulder. ‘You’ll be fine. You know what you want to say.’

‘Yes, but I don’t know what I’m doing.’ Oh good god, what was he _thinking_? ‘What if I get up there and freeze?’

‘You won’t.’ Kyle said with so much conviction Alex almost believed him. ‘You can face off against your father and win, you can go toe-to-toe with the Queen, you can give a speech.’ Right, he just needed to breathe, breathing was good.

He didn’t hear the crowd cheer as he stepped on the stage, only Kyle’s reassuring voice in his ear. He’d very kindly asked if he could talk Alex through the first few steps and the lady in charge had rolled her eyes but agreed. It was good though, because otherwise Alex would have turned around and ran the second he saw the crowd and the cameras. He put his papers down on the podium, set his hands on the side and took a slow, steadying breath. He could do this. Time to tell his story.

‘Good afternoon everyone, my name is Alexander Manes and I’d like to start off by saying: I am not here today to campaign for anyone. Not for Jesse Manes and not for Alexandra Diaz. I am here today, because miss Diaz gave me the opportunity to share my story, my truth with all of you and I am so very grateful for it.’ He could feel himself relax as Maria’s words spilled from his mouth.

‘I was born and raised in the United States, New Mexico, to be exact. I have always been a child of the desert. A child of the endless, unforgiving desert. Growing up, I was taught two absolute truths. One: The desert is not your friend, she will try to kill you. Two: My ultimate goal in life should be to be normal.’

‘Now, the first one was never a problem for me. I love the desert and I respect the desert. I think it is beautiful in the way a forest fire can be beautiful, from a distance. The second one, well, I understood very early on that I was not normal enough. Because, you see, normal meant that I would get a job, get a house with a porch, a wife and 2.4 kids. I would be smart, I would smile and shake hands, I would earn money, I would keep my head down, but my chin up and I would be straight.’

‘But that is not my truth. That has never been my truth.’ He took a deep breath.

‘I am smart, but I am also a smartass. I argue and I bicker and I don’t want to smile at people that I don’t like. I don’t want boring, I don’t want normal. I want to make a difference.’ He let himself smile. ‘I see some of the shirts out there in the crowd.’ He pointed towards a little cluster of what looked like women in their early 20s. ‘History, huh?’ He read.

‘Well here we go. My name is Alexander Manes and I am gay. Always have been, always will be.’ He had to pause to let the cheering die down.

‘But that is not my whole truth. See, about a year ago, I met a prince and at first, I thought I hated him. Turns out, I don’t hate him, I think I never did. I hated the person he was pretending to be, but then I got to know him, the real him. I learned his truths and I fell in love.’

‘I wanted to do this right, one day. I wanted to have the opportunity to tell my truth when I wanted to tell it, but that was taken from me, from us. This, however, is still _our_ story and so I will tell you this: The truth is, Michael and I have been together since the beginning of the year. The truth is that we have both struggled with what that meant for our future, our countries and our families. The truth is that I have lost many, many hours of sleep over this. But the simplest truth of them all, is that I love him. I didn’t mean to, but I love him and now that I do, I am choosing him.’

‘As some of you may have read, we spoke about history and how we would be remembered. Legacy. Well, if this is mine, if my legacy is that I fell in love with a prince and refused to give that up for anyone, then I’m alright with that. If in twenty years’ time, one kid out there can read this story, my story and realize that they’re not alone, or if anyone out there right now can look at me and say “hey, if he can do it, so can I” then I am happy. If that is my legacy, to fight for the one you love, then I will take that.’ He knew he wasn’t really supposed to go off script, but it was only a little bit, and Maria wouldn’t mind.

‘Another thing you may have read is that lyrics can sometimes describe what we want to say, better than we can. Sometimes it’s easier to let the words of others do the talking for you. So, I will quote one of the songs that always makes me feel like I can take on the world: _Now is the time to seize the day, stare down the odds and seize the day. Once we've begun, if we stand as one, someday becomes somehow and a prayer becomes a vow._ ’

‘Now, as I said at the beginning, I am not here to campaign, but I do want to say one thing: History has its eyes on us and history will remember us.’ He took a deep breath. ‘And I ask you, when you go to vote in November, please, do not think about me or Michael, think about your daughters and your sons, your neighbours, think about their kids and the world we want to leave behind for them. Vote to let your voice be heard and don’t let _anyone_ silence it.’ He swallowed and smiled. ‘Thank you.’

He walked backstage and right into the waiting arms of Maria and Kyle. He was pretty sure Oliver took a picture of them. He wanted that picture.

**You were fucking brilliant. Now get back here, please.**

Alex read as the car took them back to the airport. It was like something had loosened in his chest. He’d felt like this was something he needed to do, in the US, not from the UK (even though that would have been much easier). It was a refusal to hide, to run away. It was like a big fat middle finger at his father.

And as much as he’d wanted to get on that stage, drop to his knees and beg them not to re-elect him, he knew that wasn’t going to work. It would only fuel the nasty people and that was the opposite of what he wanted. So instead he basically went for the “be the bigger person” tactic. Be honest, tell your story, appeal to their humanity and their ideas of grandeur. Promise them they’ll make history and they will rise up for you. Alex would have.

He just hoped he made the right decision. He hoped he wouldn’t need to leak the Doomsday Document, because he’d realized it would destroy so much more than just his father. It would take down Jim too, his brothers, Hunter, Kyle could get dragged into it. He didn’t want to do it, but he would if he had to. He hoped he wouldn’t be forced to.

Now, however, it was time to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'll be back on Friday with Chapter Twenty Seven!
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. This is technically the last chapter of the official story. I technically finished it on this one, but it ended up with 27 chapters, but that's an uneven number and I couldn't handle that, so I wrote an epilogue XD. Thank you all so much for the wonderful response to the last chapter. Alex's speech was one of the things I was most nervous about posting and I was so happy to hear that you seemed to like it!  
> This isn't the longest chapter ever, but it felt good.

Alex’s speech was all over the UK news the next day and Michael was so goddamn proud. So proud and so, so miserable, because Alex wasn’t here yet (almost, but not quite) and Michael missed him. He had begged his mom to let him got to the US with Alex but she’d held firm. No. He had to go do his own media stuff and she would not have him jetlagged for that. He’d complained and pouted and stubbornly stayed up until almost 2 am to watch Alex’s speech, but he did stay in the UK.

A compromise.

He went back on This Morning, alone this time, leaving Alex asleep in his bed with a kiss brushed along his cheekbone. The stylists dressed him as close to himself as he’d ever had. No suit, no tie, just dark washed jeans and a Burberry sweater. They let his hair do its thing a little more. They were subtle little things, but they made Michael feel so much freer. Like a more true version of himself.

He talked about the initial moment where he found out the emails were leaked. It was hard and he hated it, but they decided it was important for the county (the world) to see how affected they were by this. Remind everyone that these emails were never supposed to be read. Even if the whole world has read them by now, they were _theirs_. They were words he’d written to Alex, not for anyone else.

He said he didn’t mind it now, if people had read them, but he would have preferred if they were never leaked in the first place. Everything he said echoed Alex, and it wasn’t even planned that way. They would have wanted to tell the world at some point, but on their own terms. Now that it was out there, they hoped someone could read them and feel a little less alone. He told them he hoped that they could send a message of hope to someone who needed it. 

He could see the woman (Madeline? Marianne?) hesitate before asking her next question. He assumed it wasn’t on their approved list of questions. He tilted his head, encouraging her to go ahead. If he didn’t want to answer, he’d tell her as much.

‘There have been quite a few articles about you and how you are not wearing your family ring anymore. Does that have anything to do with the leaks, or not?’ Of course people would focus in on that. Michael looked down at his empty hands. He smiled.

‘No, it has nothing to do with that. I gave it to Alex a few days before the emails were leaked.’ He realized how that sounded immediately and he could already see the headlines (“ENGAGED”) and hear the annoyance of Johnson. ‘I had to go back to London and I wanted him to have something of mine. He already wore one ring on the chain around his neck, I figured he could add a second.’ He really hoped Alex wouldn’t mind him sharing that.

‘That is… very sweet.’ She decided on and Michael smiled a cool little smile. He didn’t care what she thought, he only cared how Alex felt about the gesture and seeing as he didn’t even take the necklace off to go to sleep anymore, he figured Alex liked it.

After, when he’d been released and he was in the car on his way back to Kensington his phone buzzed with a text from Isobel.

**Oh my god, your guy has zero chill**

He didn’t ask for an explanation, he just clicked onto Instagram (Alex’s preferred medium for stirring up shit) and he was confronted with a picture of Alex’s tanned skin, the two rings on his chain resting against it. He was clearly still in bed, shirtless and good lord Michael wanted to kiss him. His caption read: **My two homes, side by side. New Mexico and you.**

**Zero chill**.

He confirmed to Isobel, but he didn’t even try to hide his grin. Ever since Alex had gotten out of DC, he’d been different. Good different. He would still flinch away from Michael’s hands sometimes, especially if he surprised him by trying to take his hand in public, but he was taking more initiative too. Arranging a dinner date outside of the palace walls. Dragging Michael out of Kensington and into Hyde Park. Asking for a private tour of the Tower Bridge with a smirk (Michael arranged it because he had yet to learn how to say no to Alex).

Alex had relaxed. His shoulders were loose and his smile came so much more easily. Today, it was a different story however. Alex hadn’t slept. No matter how tightly (or loosely) Michael held him, no matter how long he rubbed his hand along Alex’s back or whispered nonsense into the dark. It was the day of the elections (Maybe? Time differences? Whatever) and it was the day they would find out if Alex’s father would still be president for much longer.

Despite most polls predicting Jesse Manes wouldn’t be able to hold on to the presidency, Alex was still a ball of nerves. He had questioned himself many, many times over the last few weeks, whether or not he should release his Doomsday Document. Michael understood his dilemma. His father would be taken down, yes, but also Kyle’s father and a slew of other people that Alex didn’t despise quite in the way he despised his father.

So he’d held off, but now it was too late. He could still send the document off to some American newspaper when the elections were over, but it was too late to influence the voters. Now he had to sit there, in London, halfway across the world and pray that they didn’t re-elect him. He was still an American citizen and so he would go and vote at the consulate today.

Michael stopped trying to keep Alex in bed when the clock ticked past 4am.

He debated going after him, but he knew that would only make him feel guilty. So Michael caught a few (just plain awful) hours of sleep and then went to find Alex. He was, as Michael expected, in the music room, behind the piano. As soon as he realized Michael was there, he changed from a complicated piece that sounded like Wagner to Clair de Lune. At least he hadn’t lost his sense of humour.

‘Okay?’ Michael asked as he slipped onto the bench next to Alex.

‘Meh.’

‘From one to ten?’

‘Eight.’

It was ridiculously easy to communicate like this. Now that they’d actually had the time to be together, around each other for more than a few days at a time, they’d fallen into something easy and warm and soft. Something that Michael didn’t ever want to let go. Love, proper warm soft easy love.

‘Anything I can do?’

‘I just need to get through today.’ Alex said, his fingers never pausing on the keys.

So they did whatever Alex wanted to do. He asked Michael to play him something on the guitar, Michael did. He asked Michael to read him some of _The Three Musketeers_ , in French, so Michael did. He asked to head back to Michael’s room, so they did. He asked Michael to take him apart and put him back together, so Michael did.

Michael had to stay behind as Alex was taken to the consulate to vote. Oliver (who was now officially working for the Crown as Alex’s PPO) went with him, assuring Michael he’d bring him back asap. It was funny to see them up close for an extended period of time. Oliver acted like both Alex’s PPO, his PA and his older brother.

When the night came and the first polls started coming in, Alex didn’t eat. He didn’t sit for much longer than a few minutes at a time. He mostly paced, tugged on the chain around his neck, flipped his phone between his fingers. Nervously checking the device every few minutes.

At around 11pm he went very still. He’d found a spot near a window overlooking the gardens.

Michael’s mother approached him where he was watching Alex, concern no doubt written all over his face. She had been at Kensington for their now customary weekly dinner/movie night (an attempt to let them reconnect properly), but Michael hadn’t really wanted to attend. Alex took over too much of his mind to focus on anything but him.

‘He will be okay, once this is over.’ She said, setting her hand on Michael’s shoulder. He nodded, he didn’t know what to feel.

‘I’m worried.’ He sounded exhausted.

‘He is strong.’ After they got over the initial speedbumps (Alex needed a while to really forgive his mother for her initial reaction towards their relationship), the two of them actually got along very well. ‘He just needs this to be over.’

‘He hasn’t eaten or slept.’ Michael pressed his thumb into his palm.

‘We will have pancakes tomorrow morning. A celebration, I am sure.’ She said, squeezing his shoulder before heading out of the room. He hoped her confidence wasn’t misplaced. The results so far looked good. Michael wouldn’t pretend to fully understand the electoral college, it seemed strange and overly complicated (and also not completely democratic?), he just hoped the end result was good.

It was the early hours of the morning (last he checked it was 4am, again) when Alex finally seemed to startle from his daze. His phone rang. Suddenly loud in the otherwise silence of their room. Michael turned on the bed and watched Alex snatch the device off the bedside table. He hit the speaker button, knowing Michael was still awake too.

‘Kyle?’ He said, painfully hopeful. The first thing they heard was an incredulous laugh.

‘It’s done. We’ve got our first Madam President.’ The breath that rushed out of Alex send a chill down Michael’s spine. So much tension bled out of him.

‘Fucking hell.’ Alex said, sounding equal parts stunned and relieved.

‘Yes,’ Kyle agreed. ‘Texas went blue.’ Alex hadn’t been checking his phone over the last few hours, just throwing the device filthy looks, willing it to give him the release he was looking for.

‘Fuck yes.’ Alex said with a laugh and Michael could feel the smile spread across his face. He’d missed that sound.

After that it was a tiny little whirlwind of an Alex so joyous Michael had a hard time looking away from him for longer than a second. After more than 24 hours of Alex being nearly catatonic, he was so, so very happy to see him as Alex again. He grinned and he _laughed_ and then he promptly fell asleep as dawn broke. Michael sat next to him on the bed as he slept, running his fingers through Alex’s hair, letting himself soak in the relief. Alex’s happiness and joy settled over him like a cosy blanket.

Even though he barely realized it, time passed and Alex started building a life in London. It was a few months into the new year when Alex suggested him and Michael got their own place in London, outside of Kensington, something that would be _theirs_ and Michael fell in love with the idea immediately. He’d never even really thought about the possibility of having a place that he owned. He always figured he’d end up living in a place that the Crown owned, but Alex was right, he didn’t have to.

They had official portraits taken, because Alex was now officially a suitor to the prince and as much as that still made Alex giggle every time someone mentioned that, it had also put a gleam in his eyes. Something a little smug and proud. When Michael asked, Alex had shrugged and said: “I guess I just like the idea of everyone knowing you’re mine”.

It wasn’t easy finding a place that they loved and that was agreed on by both their security and the Crown. Michael insisted on paying for the beautiful apartment they found, just outside the centre of London, warm and spacious, but not ridiculously big.

It was Michael who brought up the idea of starting an LGBT+ non-profit/ shelter. Alex nearly tackled him to the floor out of pure excitement. As it turned out, when you gave Alex a goal he was passionate about, he turned into a hurricane of productivity and Michael was all too happy to let himself get swept up in it. Especially since Alex had a talent for law and politics that Michael didn’t have.

‘You could go international.’ Alex offered, looking up from the thick international law book he was working his way through. Michael was again so, so happy Alex had an interest in law because Michael hated it.

‘Could we do that?’

‘Yeah.’ Alex nodded. ‘Maybe you should start with one here in London, but you could aim to expand to other countries.’

‘Anywhere specific?’ Michael asked. When Alex mentioned something like that he usually had a plan.

‘Texas maybe, New Mexico, the South of the US.’ Alex waved his hand around vaguely. ‘It’s a pretty shitty area for LGBT+ kids, plenty that get kicked out by their parents.’ Michael nodded, he could get behind that. 

‘Alright, start small, think big.’ Alex snapped his fingers and pointed at him.

‘Exactly, you get it.’ Michael grinned. That was a frequent sentence in both of their vocabularies nowadays.

‘Have you made up your mind about law school?’ Michael asked, folding his hand underneath his chin. Alex flipped the book close, marking his page with his finger. Despite the fact that he had a literal law book in his hands, Alex had still been undecided the last time Michael checked.

‘I may have asked for some information from Cambridge and Oxford.’ Alex said. ‘I want to, but I’m also unsure if I want to go back to school for at least another 3 years, more if I want to become an actual licenced lawyer. How am I going to pay for it? I’m already living here in the place _you_ bought, living off _your_ inheritance. I don’t want people to think I’m just with you for your money.’ Alex sighed.

‘Darling, my family has more money than they know what to do with, if you want to study law so you can take on that part of the foundation, you should go study law. You’ve already offered to do the cyber stuff for the foundation, I don’t see the problem in me supporting my love. Especially not in endeavours that will benefit the non-profit.’

‘You might not see the problem, but the papers will.’ Alex mumbled.

‘Fuck them.’ Michael said, startling a laugh from Alex. ‘What’s mine is yours, darling.’

‘That’s not how it works, not unless you wanna get married.’ Alex said, rolling his eyes.

Well, that was a good point. It would have been a lie if Michael said he hadn’t thought about it. He knew Alex was it for him and he knew Alex felt forever about him, so what were they waiting for exactly? Was there an appropriate amount of time to wait before you proposed to the love of your life?

‘Uh, what?’ He had apparently been silent for too long, because Alex had closed his book properly now and he’d tilted his head in that inquisitive way that usually meant something was about to get researched to all hell. Oh, right.

‘Um well,’ Michael cleared his throat. ‘I wouldn’t be opposed to it.’ Alex’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline.

‘You “wouldn’t be opposed to it”? Michael I swear to God, if this is how you propose I am going to throw you out of the window.’ Alex said, but there was laughter in his voice. ‘You have a reputation to uphold as Prince Charming you asshole. What am I supposed to tell people? Oh yes we were talking about money and then he just went “well we could always get married” it was so romantic.’

Michael rolled his eyes and groaned.

‘Jesus Christ, okay, fine.’ He held his hands up in surrender. ‘I’ll ask again, but with more fanfare.’

‘I’m not asking for more fanfare, I’m asking for some romance.’ Alex looked sincerely unimpressed.

‘Yeah, yeah, I know. I wasn’t planning on anything public. No flash mobs, I promise.’

‘Good.’ Alex’s expression softened into the smile he reserved only for Michael. ‘In case you were worried, I’ll totally say yes. Even if I did say I never wanted to go to another royal wedding.’ Michael threw his head back and laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will upload the epilogue on Sunday and then this will be done. Holy crap. I can't believe it. 
> 
> Thank you so much!
> 
> Comments make me squeal with delight!


	28. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, it's here. It's done. I can't believe it.   
> I'll make a sappy end not so you can skip over it if you want XD
> 
> I did realize that it has been exactly two months since I posted the first chapter, and I didn't even plan it that way.

‘Michael?’ Alex yelled in the direction of their bedroom. ‘Did you use the last of the milk yesterday?’

‘Uh…’ Michael’s voice drifted from the bedroom, the silence was enough of an answer. ‘Maybe? I’m sorry darling.’ Alex whined, letting his head fall back.

‘How are you still not used to stuff not magically appearing in our fridge?’ Alex asked, throwing the fridge door closed and resigning himself to drinking his coffee black. Ugh, gross. If he didn’t feel like absolute death, he would have tossed the coffee and just gone without it. He did not sleep well enough though, so he needed the caffeine to keep him awake.

‘Well, I had 21 years of that, and only 3 of this.’ Michael appeared from their bedroom with a sheepish smile on his face. Alex sighed, but Michael looked really good this morning and Alex was still not immune to that smile. His hair was still sleep messy, his shirt only half buttoned and his grin lazy and warm. Alex was weak.

‘Yeah okay. Can you just drop by the supermarket before you come home? I have exams and I can’t think about anything else right now.’ Alex took a big gulp of his coffee, if he just drank it quickly he could ignore how horrible it was. ‘Just buy a small one, we’re leaving for New Mexico pretty soon after I’m done, otherwise it will just spoil.’

‘Yes, I will.’ Michael ran his hand along Alex’s shoulders. He automatically took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders. Right, breathing. ‘You’re going to do just fine.’ Michael brushed a kiss past Alex’s temple. Michael smelled like that spicy, sharp scent he wore when he meant business. Alex liked it a lot.

‘I know, I know, I just want this to be done.’ Alex said after he downed the rest of his coffee, putting the empty mug in the sink with a grimace. ‘From New Mexico we’re heading to Greece, yes?’ He asked, nearly pleading. Michael nodded.

‘Yes and we will spend a week there doing nothing but sit on the beach, drink Sangria and have sex. It’s going to be awesome.’ Michael said with a grin, Alex couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.

‘I’ve missed that place.’

‘Me too, and I’ve missed you.’ Despite being in the same city, they had been so busy lately it felt like they were living past each other. If not for the ring on the chain around his neck and the one on his left ring finger, he’d almost question if Michael was real and not some figment of his imagination.

‘Once the New Mexico shelter is set up and running and my exams are done, we’ll have some more breathing room, more time for us.’ Alex said, straightening out Michael’s rumpled shirt with an amused huff.

‘And you will, officially, be the smartest person I know. Seriously, I don’t know where you leave all of that knowledge you’ve got in there.’ Michael tapped against Alex’s temple.

‘In my brain, duh.’ Alex said with a smirk, sliding his arms around Michael’s neck. ‘Kiss for luck?’ Michael kissed him, soft and unhurried and Alex could feel it all the way down to his toes. No matter how often they did this, it never seemed to start to feel normal. Every kiss still felt monumental. At this point, he was pretty sure that was never going to change and he didn’t mind it at all.

‘Good luck.’ Michael mumbled against his cheek as he pulled Alex even closer for a hug. Alex relaxed into him automatically.

‘You enjoy those final few meetings.’ Alex said with a smile and Michael huffed out a laugh.

‘Darling, the day I enjoy a meeting is the day hell freezes over.’

Alex headed off to his exams with Oliver at his side. He’d brought him an actual proper cup of coffee (screw you Michael, the way he drank his coffee was perfectly acceptable) and Alex nearly cried. His exams went, as predicted, perfectly fine, he was pretty sure he even kind of nailed them. It must have shown on his face because when he stepped outside, Oliver immediately smiled.

‘Yes?’

‘Oh yes.’ Alex agreed and he smacked his hand against Oliver’s for the offered high five.

‘Awesome.’ Oliver said before holding open the door for Alex. It had somehow gotten dark already while Alex was inside slaving away at his exams.

When he got home after bidding Oliver goodnight, Michael was waiting at the kitchen table, his leg bouncing up and down nervously. His head snapped up when Alex opened the door.

‘Honey, I’m home.’ Alex joked which immediately made Michael smile so brightly it was like looking at the sun. How was Alex supposed to not smile back? ‘I won’t get the results for another week or so, but I’m pretty sure I nailed it.’

‘ _Yes_!’ Michael came at him with two big strides, picked Alex up and swung him around. Alex held on tight as he laughed. The overwhelming warmth that settled in his bones was unlike anything he’d felt before he met Michael.

They flew to New Mexico a few days later to open Michael’s fourth shelter, their first on American soil. Being back in the desert was as wonderful as always. Alex liked London a lot, better than he liked Washington, but still, nothing beat the desert. Michael had actually scheduled for them to arrive a day early so they could spend one night at his mom’s place before they headed to Santa Fe.

It gave Alex the chance to lay on a blanket in the backyard and stare at the stars for a while as Michael had tea with his mom.

There was something poetic about laying there under the same stars he’s laid under when he was a kid, even though his whole world was different now. His mom was back in his life, he was married, he hadn’t seen his father in _years_. When he was young he never imagined his life could turn out like this. He wouldn’t have dared to dream this big.

The shelter was pretty much done, but they could still help with the final touches. Moving books into place, pillows, plants (they had a few cacti and Alex was ecstatic about it). The volunteers all seemed very warm, kind and welcoming, exactly the kind of people they needed. The whole place felt warm and homey, even though most of it was brand new. It was impressive.

Several media outlets had assembled to get a good shot of Michael cutting the ribbon to officially open the Santa Fe shelter for disenfranchised LGBT+ youths. Alex stood behind him with a proud grin.

This would be Michael’s legacy, not the bisexual prince with the American husband. No, Michael would be remembered as the prince who broke through the ancient stereotype that the royal family had to be straight and only get married to white people. He would be remembered as strong, loyal and charming. He’d be the one to set off the acknowledgement of a wider range of issues than the royal family had previously been willing to accept.

He’d be remembered for making history. Just like they’d talked about.

And Alex? Alex would be right there with him. He’d dipped his toes in politics by offering several options for legislation to protect minorities to parliament (he wasn’t studying law for funsies) and he’d helped Michael build his foundation from the ground up. It carried Michael’s name, but Alex liked to think he was in the by-line. He still wasn’t quite sure what exactly his end goal was, but as long as him and Michael stuck together, he didn’t really think he could be unhappy.

The legacy of progress, of looking forward, inclusivity, that was what he was most proud of. They gave talks at schools, in both the UK and the US (their relationship with madam president was pretty good), they spoke about climate change, gender inequality (Isobel was particularly passionate about that one) and anything else that they felt passionate about. They helped break the idea that the royal family wasn’t supposed to have opinions. Especially if those opinions improved the lives of “their people”.

Michael had questioned, more than once, “if we can’t have opinions, what is our purpose?” and eventually his mother had agreed. They reignited her spirit and she herself started donating a yearly amount to cancer research. Michael’s generation pushed the boundaries of what they were supposed to do. They pushed the limits, showing more of themselves, their true selves and it was beautiful to watch.

History had its eyes on them and he liked to think, in fifty years, kids in school would learn about them. Learn that anything was possible, as long as you didn’t let yourself be limited by what society told you, you could do. Learn that you could find love anywhere, anytime, even when you least expected it.

And to think it all started with an incident that involved a ruined wedding cake and the spilling of extremely expensive champagne.

Alex wondered sometimes, what his life would have been like if that cake never fell, if Michael hadn’t come to bother him that night? What if he hadn’t given Michael his number, or invited him to the New Year’s party? What if he’d given in when Michael ran? What if Michael hadn’t followed him when _he_ ran?

He was truly so, so immensely happy he never had to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, holy shit. There you go. It's done. 
> 
> You know, when I started this a few months ago, I had no idea this was going to come out of it. It has been such a fun ride and I want to thank you all so much for your support. Your comments and kudos and reblogs over on Tumblr mean so much to me and I really want you to know that! 
> 
> Now since this is officially the end, I'm curious who your favourite character was (maybe besides Michael and Alex)? Any favourite scenes or particular lines/ moments that stood out to you? Did you end up shipping Oliver and Yasir (I kind of did, but I didn't want to take the attention away from Malex too much, might write a coda about them at some point)? 
> 
> If you have any questions or maybe a prompt you'd like me to write, you can leave them in the comments or you can come say hello on Tumblr: daffietjuh. 
> 
> Again, thank you all so much, and for the final time: Comments make me squeal with delight!


End file.
